"How nice of you to be so candid. I value frankness from my friends more than anything in the world.
"It is the exact truth!"
"It was unworthy of you," he said shortly.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"You think much too well of me," she said. "You know I am a woman to the finger tips."
"I don't call that a womanly action," he said.
"Ah! that is because you know nothing of women." There was a moment's silence. From a distant room, dimly seen through a vista of curved and pillared archways, a woman's voice came pealing out to them, the passionate climax of an Italian love song, the voice of a prima donna of world-wide fame. A storm of applause was echoed through the near rooms, a buzz of appreciative criticism followed. Drexley rose up from the seat where he had been sitting.
"Thank you," he said. "I have learned what I wanted to know. I will go now. Good evening."
She stood by his side—as tall as he—and looked at him curiously. It was as though she were seeking to discover from his face how much his opinion of her had altered. But if so, she was disappointed. His face was inscrutable.
"You are angry with me?"