And your skin—do you double the thickness of that also?
Aubrey.
I know you think me a fool, Cayley—you needn't infer that I'm a coward into the bargain. No! I know what I'm doing, and I do it deliberately, defiantly. I'm alone; I injure no living soul by the step I'm going to take; and so you can't urge the one argument which might restrain me. Of course, I don't expect you to think compassionately, fairly even, of the woman whom I—whom I am drawn to——
Drummle.
My dear Aubrey, I assure you I consider Mrs.—Miss Jarman—Mrs. Ray—Miss Ray—delightful. But I confess there is a form of chivalry which I gravely distrust, especially in a man of—our age.
Aubrey.
Thanks. I've heard you say that from forty till fifty a man is at heart either a stoic or a satyr.
Drummle.
[Protestingly.] Ah! now——
Aubrey.