“No,” she answered quietly, “I can’t say that you did; however, most men of your age are married.”
“And I’ve got a son,” Winn continued. “His name is Peter — after my father, you know.”
“That’s a good thing,” she concurred heartily. “I’m glad you’ve got a son.”
“Unfortunately,” said Winn, “my marriage didn’t exactly come off. We got hold of the wrong end of the stick.”
“Ah,” said Miss Marley, “that’s a pity! The right end of the stick is, I believe, almost essential in marriage.”
“Yes,” Winn acknowledged; “I see that now, of course. I was keen on getting her, but I hadn’t thought the rest out. Rather odd, isn’t it, that you don’t get as much as a tip about how jolly a thing could be till you’ve dished yourself from having it?”
Miss Marley agreed that it was rather odd.
Winn came back swiftly to his point.
“What I was going to ask you,” he said, holding her with his eyes, “is to sit at my table for a bit. I happen to have two young friends of mine over from Davos. He’s her brother, of course, but I thought I’d like to have another woman somewhere about. Look better, wouldn’t it? She’s only nineteen.”
His voice dropped as he mentioned Claire’s age as if he were speaking of the Madonna.