"Did he shrug you out of existence?"
"My dear Clare—could any one snub me? You might as well snub a rubber ball."
"Yes, you're pretty thick-skinned." Clare paid her back reflectively.
Alwynne winced.
"Am I? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be. How, just now?"
Clare yawned.
"Well, for one thing, you needn't flavour your conversation exclusively with Denes. They bore me worse than if they had an 'a' in them."
"I'm sorry." Alwynne paused. Then she plucked up courage. "Clare, I stayed there two months. The Dene people are my friends, my great friends. I don't think you need sneer at them."
Clare yawned again.
"I wonder you ever came back, if they're so absorbing. What is the particular attraction there, by the way? The old women or the young men?"