“I don’t agree,” said Eve, “but supposing I am. Why shouldn’t I like my liquor?”
“I’ve tried to point out,” said Jeremy wearily, “that a taste for liquor doesn’t become you. But I think in your heart you know that. What you won’t see is that to drink two cocktails is tough.”
“I confess I can’t,” said Eve. “What’s more, I propose to drink two more to-night.”
“Look here,” said Broke, deliberately ignoring the glove. “It used to be the fashion to wear short skirts, usedn’t it? Very well. You subscribed to the fashion and wore them, too. But you didn’t exaggerate that fashion—turn out in a dress that stopped half-way to your knees, did you?”
“What d’you think?” said his wife.
“Some girls did.”
“Some.”
“Exactly,” cried Broke. “And because they went beyond the dictates of Fashion, they were properly judged to be tough.”
“That didn’t make them tough. They were tough already, or they wouldn’t have done it.”
Jeremy spread out his hands.