'Because you're a woman. You live for the moment. I'm anxious about the future.'
'Oh, oh! You're quite wrong. It's not women who live for the moment,' said Edith.
'No, I don't know that the average woman does. But then you're not an average woman.'
'What am I?'
'You're Edith,' he answered, rather fatuously. But she liked it. She moved away.
'Now that's awfully mean of you, taking advantage of my wounded limb.'
She rang for tea.
'And that's even meaner. It's treacherous,' he said, laughing.
She sat down on a chair at a little distance.
'Angel!' he said, in a low, distinct voice.