"What is that?"
"I happen to be a dog with a bad name."
Poppy made a little weary exclamation. In truth, she did not see any use in prolonging the discussion. The desire to go out into Durban and meet men and women no longer burned within her. In her present state of weariness she believed she would never again have any taste for human society. Abinger, however, pursued the course of his remarks.
"It is very sad, but my reputation is not one that would commend me to the good ladies of South Africa as the guardian-angel of a young and remarkably pretty girl."
Poppy sat silent.
"I regret to say that the very notion of my appearance in such a rôle would be received with ribald shouts of laughter by all the men who have the pleasure of my acquaintance, and in Durban and Johannesburg it would be considered the best joke ever told in the clubs."
At last the girl was moved out of her apathy. She shrank back in her chair with her hands before her face. She thought of the Durban Club and a man in it listening and laughing.
"O God!" she softly cried.
"As for the women," continued Abinger calmly, still staring out of the window. "Well, generally speaking, all the women out here are of the genus crow, and their virtue is a matter of whitewash. Of course, there are degrees. Some of them have managed to assume four or five coats of it, and there's not a speck to be seen anywhere. These are saintly far beyond the understanding of you and me, my child, but as they mostly live in Johannesburg and we don't, we won't worry about them. There are others there too, who are only in the grey, or one-coat stage, and I've no doubt they would extend a claw of welcome to you, if you'd like to go and live up there. Durban is another matter altogether. This, I must tell you, is a city of the highest moral rectitude. The whitewash is within, as well as without. It flows in the women's veins. Some of them are solid blocks of it! I'm afraid, Poppy, that by the time their husbands have handed the highly delectable tale of my guardianship round the morning tramcars on the way to office, and discussed it in the evening while having their high-teas in carpet slippers, you will not stand much chance of being received into the 'white and winged throng' which makes up Durban society. You will be black-balled."
Poppy sat up in her chair now, her eyes shining, her cheeks aflame.