Mr. Wilsey hid a slight annoyance under a manner peculiarly bland.
“Ah, dear lady,” he said, “you must forgive my saying that that remark is a trifle irrelevant.”
“Is it?” she asked, meaning him to answer her; but he only looked benevolently at her, and turned to listen to Mrs. Baxter, who was saying:
“Yes, everywhere we look nowadays we see women rushing into things they don’t understand, and of course we all know what women are—”
“What are they?” asked Mrs. Wayne, and Lanley’s heart sank.
“Oh, emotional and inaccurate and untrustworthy and spiteful.”
“Mrs. Baxter, I’m sure you’re not like that.”
“My dear Madam!” exclaimed Wilsey.
“But isn’t that logical?” Mrs. Wayne pursued. “If all women are so, and she’s a woman?”
“Ah, logic, dear lady,” said Wilsey, holding up a finger—“logic, you know, has never been the specialty of your sex.”