She'd no "reason" for thinking so, of course. There was very little reason about Gwenna's whole make-up.
For instance, Leslie had tried "reasoning" with her, the night before she'd left the Hampstead Club. Leslie had taken it into her impish black head to be philosophical, and to attempt to talk her chum into the same mood.
Leslie, the nonchalant, had given a full hour to her comments on Marriage. We will allow her a full chapter—but a short one.
CHAPTER XVII
LESLIE ON "MARRIAGE"
She'd said, "Supposing the moon did fall into your lap, Taffy? Suppose that young Cloud-Dweller of yours did (a) take you flying, and (b) propose to you?" and she'd recited solemnly:
"Somewhere I've read that the gods, waxing wroth at our mad importunity,
Hurl us our boon and it falls with the weight of a curse at our feet;
Perilous thing to intrude on their lofty Olympian immunity!
'Take it and die,' say the gods, and we die of our fondest conceit."
"Yes; 'of' it! After having it. Who'd mind dying then?"