“Oh, you may laugh!” exclaimed Mr. Cardozo, with perfect good humour. “Other men laugh, too; but I win—I walk in,” he concluded, with an air of superb complacency.
Mark gazed dispassionately at his little stout, sleek companion. He was fat and forty, effeminate and vain; but then he was wealthy and good-natured. Were these the traits that appeal most strongly to women-kind?
“I am a great ladies’ man, I do assure you. I could show you letters——”
Jervis made a gesture of frantic dissent.
“Bah, bah, bah! Why, you know very well you’ve had fifty love affairs yourself.”
“If I had I should keep them to myself.”
“That’s a snub”—with a roar of laughter. “And you would; you are a close sort of fellow, I should say. Now, I am not; I like talking about my experiences.”
“With Mrs. Cardozo, of course.”
“Mrs. Cardozo knows there is no harm in me; but I must have my own friends, just as she has hers.” And he stretched out his arm and amorously contemplated a slender gold bangle. “I suppose”—with a self-conscious smile—“you don’t possess one?”
“Great aunt! I should think not. Do you wear a necklace, too?”