“We might get up a Wild West Show here, or a prize-fight, for you. Do you know, Mr. Ponsonby, I think it will take full another century for women to really civilize men.”
“How so?”
“Get the cruelty and love of brutal sports out of them.”
“Then you'd cease to like us. Nothing is so insipid, I fancy, to a woman as a man made in her own image.”
“Well, what have you against Newport?”
“Against it? I'm sure nothing could be better than this.” And Mr. Ponsonby allowed his adventurous eyes to rest for a moment upon Margaret's trim figure, until he saw a flush in her face. “This prospect,” he added, turning to the sea, where a few sails took the slant rays of the sun.
“'Where every prospect pleases,”' quoted Margaret, “'and only man—'”
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Henderson; men are not to be considered. The women in Newport would make the place a paradise even if it were a desert.”
“That is another thing I object to in men.”
“What's that?”