'I know. I quite understand. You're great friends. Personally, I think Mr Ross has behaved splendidly.' Madame Frabelle said this with an air of self-control and scrupulous justice.
'You don't care very much about him, I fancy,' said Bruce with the air of having made a subtle discovery.
She raised one eyebrow slightly. 'I won't say that. I see very excellent points in him. I admit there's a certain coldness, a certain hard reserve about his character that—Well, frankly, it doesn't appeal to me. But I hope I am fair to him. He's a man I respect…. Yes, I respect him.'
'But he doesn't amuse you—what?' said Bruce.
'The fact is, he has no sense of humour,' said Madame Frabelle.
'Fancy your finding that out now!' said Bruce, with a broad smile.
'Funny! Ha ha! Very funny! Do you know, it never occurred to me! But now
I come to think of it—yes, perhaps that's what's the matter with him.
Mind you, I call him a jolly, cheery sort of chap. Quite an optimist—a
distinct optimist. You never find Aylmer depressed.'
'No, not depressed. It isn't that. But he hasn't got—You won't either of you be angry with me for what I say, will you?'
'Oh no, indeed.'
'You won't be cross with me, Edith? Perhaps I ought not to say it.'
'Yes, do tell us,' urged Edith.