“If he is so very big——” said I.
“He is really; he’s beefy. I’ve engaged myself to him, somehow or other. One never knows how one does those things, do they?”
“I couldn’t speak from experience,” said I.
“Cruel man! I suppose I felt Christmasy, and I’d just been reading Maeterlinck—and he really is big.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Oh—He, of course. My Golaud. I can’t help admiring men who are a bit avoirdupoisy. It is unfortunate they can’t dance.”
“Perhaps fortunate,” said I.
“I can see you hate him. Pity I didn’t think to ask him if he danced—before——”
“Would it have influenced you very much?”
“Well—of course—one can be free to dance all the more with the really nice men whom one never marries.”