Mary stepped to the carpet. She was dumb before this man.
Mr. Marrapit bent above the polished flooring where she had stood. “There is no scratch,” he announced, “neither is there any blemish.” He resumed his post against the fireplace and again regarded her: “You are young.”
“I am older really.”
“Elucidate that.”
“I mean—I am not inexperienced.”
“Why say one thing and mean another? Beware the habit. It is perilous.”
“Indeed it is not my habit.”
“It is your recreation, then. Do not indulge it. Continue.”
“I am young, but I have had experience. I think if you were to engage me I would give you satisfaction.”
“Adduce grounds.”