“Yes,” he replied gravely, “I have always feel that myself; for with me it is very strong that there shall be no other. But tell me now, truly are many men much with you?”
“Why I have hosts of friends,” she declared, “and, on account of the way that the world is made, half of them are obliged to be men.”
“But you said that they were all stupid or horrible,” he reminded her carefully.
“I said that most of them were.”
He thought a moment.
“I wish that there had been a bouillon here,” he said then.
She began to put on her gloves, thinking that the hour of departure was close at hand.
“J’ai envie de fûmer une cigarette,” he said suddenly, “ça ne vous fait rien d’attender un peu?”
“I don’t care,” she answered, and laid her gloves down again.
“Am I ever horrible to you?” he asked, taking a match from the white china pyramid that ornamented the centre of the table.