‘No.’
‘What did you do with them?’
‘I never had most of them.’
‘And the others?’
‘I destroyed some when I married.’
‘That was nice of you. Aren’t you sorry?’
‘No, I thought it was only right.’
‘Were you fondest of dark women or fair?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I was never pernickety in my tastes. You know those lines I read you from Henley: “Handsome, ugly—all are women.” That’s a bachelor’s sentiment.’
‘But do you mean to say, sir—now, you are speaking on your honour, that out of all these forty, there was not one who was prettier than I am?’