"I never did," James put in.
"But what does that matter? He is polite. He does know how to behave himself in polite society. If Andrew Dean pushed him into the water, that wasn't his fault. Andrew is stronger than he is, but that's no credit to Andrew Dean. It's to his discredit. Andrew Dean is nothing but a bully—we all know that. He might have pushed you into the water, or me."
"He might," James admitted, "if I'd been silly enough to get between the water and him."
"And I should like to know who looked a fool when Andrew Dean fell off those steps. And just listen to the language the man used. I will say this for Emanuel Prockter—I never heard him swear."
"No," said James. "He wears gloves. He even wears 'em when he takes his bath of a November afternoon."
"I don't care who knows it," Helen observed, hotly, "I like Emanuel Prockter."
"There's nobody as dunna' know it," said James. "It's the talk of Bosley as you've set your cap at him."
"I don't wear caps," said Helen. "I'm not a servant."
"Hat, then," James corrected himself. "Ye'll not deny as you wear hats, I reckon. I've seen ye in forty."
"I know who started that tale," Helen exploded. "Andrew Dean started that tale."