“And why?”
Mary was at least candid, and she spoke bluntly.
“Because we met Mrs. Kellynch; and you talked to her and seemed pleased to see her.”
“Oh, good heavens! I can hardly cut dead all the women I ever knew before we were married.”
“Do you think her pretty?” said Mary.
“Yes, of course I do; and so does everyone. She is pretty. It’s a well-known fact. But what does it matter? It’s of no interest to me.”
“Are you sure it isn’t? Didn’t you tell me you were almost engaged once?”
“Oh, do let’s drop the prehistoric,” he entreated, appearing bored. “Never mind about ancient history now. She’s married and seems very happy.” (He stopped himself in time from saying like us.) “Kellynch is a very good sort.”
“Is he? Do you envy him?”
“Mary, really, don’t be absurd. Let me tell you that there’s not one man in a hundred who could stand …” and he moved a step farther away.