“Not if you won’t mind if I don’t answer.”
“Then with that proviso I’ll go on. Did she tell why she—why she broke it off?”
“Not—not exactly.”
“And haven’t you found out?”
“Elsie Coningsby, she’s her great friend, told me something of it. She said there were two kinds of women. Some liked to be wooed, and others weren’t satisfied unless they were conquered.”
“And you took the wrong method?”
“So it seems.”
“Well, why don’t you turn round now and take the right one?”
His dreamy, melancholy eyes slid toward me.