She gave me a glance of scorn. "Should a dutiful wife regard with indifference the sudden desertion of her husband by the only friend he possesses? Just tell me that."
"You take my breath away."
"No," she flashed, "the 'dutiful wife' did that. Confess!"
"Well, since you insist—I admit that Helen becomes you better than Joan," I said audaciously.
Her eyes glittered. "May be, my fine gentleman—but would you say 'Dixon' was synonymous with 'Darby'?"
"Not quite. Still, they both commence with a 'D.' That is something, eh?"
"So does another word which rhymes with lamb," she retorted cuttingly. "Oh! I might have known that you would take his part. You men always stick together."
"I beg your pardon, Lady Helen. I consider that you deserve well of your country. You have improved Hubbard past belief. He is worth improving."
She smiled. "I have humanised him, just a little, don't you think?"
I nodded.