“Of course. They are the very people who will.”
“Nonsense.”
“Yes, because they make a point of always believing the worst, or at least of pretending to.”
“Why pretend?”
“Because it makes conversation so much more amusing. Sometimes,” she added thoughtfully, “I have a terrible suspicion that there really isn’t an atom of harm in any of them—that they all behave perfectly well, and just excite themselves by talking as if they didn’t.”
“And you call that suspicion terrible?”
“Well, it makes it all seem a little flat. But then sometimes,” she went on brightly, “one does find out something absolutely hideous.”
“See here,” he said, “it’s a crime for a girl of your age to talk like this. It’s a silly habit. I don’t believe you’re like that at heart.”
“You talk,” said she, “like Edward Hickson.”
“In some communities that would be thought a fighting word,” he returned. “But you haven’t yet answered my question. You’ve told me what your friends have done; but what would you do yourself, if you fell in love with a poor man?”