"But I'm very thin and dark," said Daphne angrily.
"I don't care if you are. You're a pretty girl, you're unmarried, you've got blue chiffon round your head—and there it is.... I don't mean Prussian officers, of course."
"They would appreciate you, I suppose you mean!"
"One can't say. They'd probably take on anything."
Valentia took out the little looking-glass from her motor-bag, looked at it, put it back, and added—
"Anything possible, I mean."
"Go on, Val."
"Go on how?"
"Telling me things. You're so interesting, you know such a lot. Now, about the Latin races—wouldn't they like—er—me?"
"Of course they would. But they'd like you better if you were married to Cyril or any one. Frenchmen and Italians always want their love-making or flirtations to have something in it of the nature of a score. They love scoring off a third person, whoever it may be,—whether it's their friend's wife, or their wife's friend, or anything."