Miss Voile put a hand to her head.
“It’s terribly difficult to get hold of,” she said. “You’re quite sure I don’t attract you?”
“Absolutely,” said Rage. “If you were to go up in smoke—now, I shouldn’t turn a hair. I like you as I like a work of art. If you were damaged or removed, I should deplore your removal: but I shouldn’t come unbuttoned about it. But, surely, if you feel the same, you can appreciate——”
“I do,” said Miss Voile quickly. “But then I’m a girl. Men don’t attract women: they sort of bear them down.”
“Ugh, the brutes!” said Rage.
“But women are always supposed to attract a man. Of course I know you’re impervious, but when you speak and look so—so naturally, it’s almost impossible to believe that there’s nothing doing.”
“You’ll soon get used to that,” said her companion. “When you’ve called me ‘Toby darling’ a few dozen times without a sign of a rise——”
“D’you think you could stand it, Toby? I mean, Alfred used to say my voice——”
“My sweet,” said Toby, “I could listen to your voice all day . . . listen. . . . It has quality.”
With that he lay back on the turf and closed his eyes.