“See! My little dog!” she exclaimed. “He bite you. Messieurs are lonely?”
“Alas! Of necessity,” Holderness answered in French. “Madame is too kind.”
She passed on, laughing. Macheson looked across the table almost fiercely.
“What are you doing it for, Dick?” he exclaimed. “What does it mean?”
His friend looked across at him steadfastly.
“Victor,” he said, “I want you to understand. You are an enthusiast, a reformer, a prophet of lost causes. I want you to know the truth if you can see it. There are many sides to life.”
“What am I to learn of this?” Macheson asked, almost passionately.
“If I told you,” Holderness answered, “the lesson would only be half learnt. Sit tight and don’t be a fool. Drink your wine. Mademoiselle in violet there wants to flirt with you.”
“Shall I ask her to join us?” Macheson demanded with wasted satire.
“You might do worse,” Holderness answered calmly. “She could probably teach you something.”