"You do my heart good!" she cried. "I haven't heard a compliment in fifteen years."
"Good Heavens, madam! what are our men thinking of?"
"It's not the men's fault; it's the women's. They won't have it."
"Are there many of these—new women?"
"There's nothing else—except a few old ones like me."
I hastened to assure her that a woman like her would never be called old—and she looked as pleased as a girl.
Presently I excused myself and left her, with relief. It was annoying beyond measure to have the only specimen of the kind of woman I used to like turn out to be personally the kind I never liked.
On the opposite deck, I found Miss Elwell—and for once alone. A retiring back, wearing an aggrieved expression showed that it had not been for long.
"May I join you, Miss Elwell?"
I might. I did. We paced up and down, silent for a bit.