"But," stammered Jim, somewhat abashed, "when you say that she would sell herself——"
"You were drinking before you came here," said Ellis, "or you wouldn't take such ideas so easily." He removed the bottle from Jim's elbow, then, as if on second thought, he put it back again. "This is a lonely place, Mr. Wayne; I don't wonder that you take a cock-tail occasionally in the morning. But just remember that it may prevent you from seeing a man's meaning."
"I thought——" began Jim, but Ellis cut him short.
"I know; but never mind. I meant, my dear man, a libel on the sex, perhaps, but not on the individual. They're fond of finery, that's all. And you haven't the money to give it." He looked at Jim with a smile.
"You can't give it to her!" cried Jim. But the exclamation was almost a question.
"To some women you can't—perhaps. But I've never met the kind. And do you suppose the Judge knows what comes into the house?"
"Gad!" murmured Jim.
"A weakness of the sex," resumed Ellis. "Just remember that. Women are softer than we; we've got to humour them. There's no harm in it; a pearl pin now and then—something good, oh, you need something pretty good, or nothing at all."
"Then I'll go on the nothing-at-all system," said Jim with gloom.