“I think it will do,” said Lady Deane complacently.
“Er—what was he transformed into, Lady Deane?”
“A man,” replied the lady emphatically.
“Of course. I see,” murmured Laing apologetically, stifling a desire to ask what Giles had been before.
A moment later the author enlightened him.
“Yes,” said she, “into a man, from a useless, mischievous, contemptible idler, a parasite, Mr. Laing, a creature to whom——”
“What did it, Lady Deane?” interrupted Laing hastily. He felt somehow as if he were being catalogued.
“Just a woman’s influence.”
Laing’s face displayed relief; he felt that he was in his depth again.
“Oh, got married, you mean? Well, of course, he’d have to pull up a bit, wouldn’t he? Hang it, I think it’s a fellow’s duty.