“‘Oh!’ doesn’t tell me much.”
“Well, you know all about him.”
“He’s a very excellent young man. Not rich.”
“A pauper?”
“No. Enough.”
“All right. If you’re satisfied, I am. But hasn’t he been making a fool of himself about some woman?”
“Really, Robert, how strangely you express yourself! I suppose you mean about Neaera Witt?”
“Yes, that’s it. I heard some rumour.”
“Heard some rumour! Of course you read every word about it, and gossiped over it at the Club and the House. Now, haven’t you?”
“Perhaps I have,” her husband admitted. “I think he’s a young fool.”