“Her plan?” Even in that moment I remembered that the idea had never seemed quite like him!
“Yes—I was at my wit’s end. She told me the only plan was to say I was already booked! Yes! But who to? ‘Anyone,’ she said. ‘You engage someone—like a courier, an interpreter—someone you pay to understand it is a farce’—(You know the way she talks!) ‘You go to an office—your own, perhaps. You choose one of your stenographistes—you have of them, yes?’ I told her I’d got four. I think I said three of the lot would be more or less impossible as a fiancée, but the fourth—But never mind that.”
“Yes, but I do! What did you say about the fourth?”
“I’ll tell you,” he said, laughing a little, “some time. We have plenty of time, I hope.”
“No, now,” I said. It was my turn to insist. “What about the fourth?”
“Oh, I forget! Well, then,” hurriedly. “I believe I said she seemed quite a nice, quiet, unassuming little mouse of a person—look here, you’ll have to forgive me if I do tell you!—not particularly brilliant at her job, but dependable; and that perhaps she was the kind of girl one could take about when it seemed necessary, and leave a good deal to one’s people—mind, I’d scarcely seen you! I hadn’t seen you! I said I thought you seemed——”
“Well?”
“Well, perfectly tractable!”
He broke off to laugh again, and moved nearer to me.