"What is it you like so much in him. Miss Nell?"
Eleanor curled her feet under her on the sofa, and launched forth on a favorite theme:
"Well, to begin with, he's the most cosmopolitan man I ever met."
"Cosmopolitan? How do you mean?"
"Awfully sophisticated. A sort of citizen of the world, you know."
"You mean he's traveled a lot, knocked around in queer places, like me?"
"Oh, no; it isn't that. As a matter of fact, he has never been out of this country. But I mean that, wherever he'd go, he would be at home."
"Yes," Quin admitted, with a grim smile; "that's where he was most of the time when he was in the army. What else do you like about him?"
"I sha'n't tell you. You are prejudiced, like all the rest. He says that only an artist can understand an artist."
"Meaning, I suppose, that he understands you?"