"So am I," said Rita. "But he's got the idea he would be doing me a favor in marrying me; and when a man gets that notion it's fatal. Also—He doesn't realize it himself, but I'm not prim enough to suit him. He imagines he's liberal—that's a common failing among men. But a woman who is natural shocks them, and they are taken in and pleased by one who poses as more innocent and impossible than any human being not perfectly imbecile could remain in a world that conceals nothing.... I despise Grant—I like him, but despise him."
"He IS small," admitted Lucia.
"Small? He's infinitesimal. He'd be mean with his wife about money. He'd run the house himself. He should have been a butler."
"But, at least, he's a gentleman."
"Oh, yes," said Margaret. "Yes, I suppose so. I despise him, while, in a way, I respect Craig."
"He has such a tough-looking skin," said Lucia.
"I don't mind that in a man," replied Margaret.
"His hands are like—like a coachman's," said Lucia. "Whenever I look at them I think of Thomas."
"No, they're more like the parrot's—they're claws.... That's why I'm marrying him."
"Because he has ugly hands?"