“But that’s being too fantastic.”
“Very well, then. Supposing that my wife didn’t like Rose? Women can be very disapproving of each other—very jealous.”
“All this doesn’t affect the main thing,” said Mrs. Stratton. “I am still worried by the extreme impropriety of you and my niece living here alone.”
“Then tell me,” I said, “what you propose—for you must have some proposition in your mind.”
“Rose could come to us,” said Mrs. Stratton. “We are planning to go to the Italian Riviera for the winter—to Nervi.”
“But on returning,” I said, “there would be the same opportunities for calumny.”
“Might it not be possible to have a companion for her?” Mrs. Stratton asked. “Some nice woman to live here? I know of one I could recommend.”
“No,” I said, not without emphasis, “it might not, I will not have any nice woman here. Besides, if I did, what would be the result? Simply more suspicions! I should be thought bigamous instead of merely monogamous.”
“Oh no!” said Mrs. Stratton. “I meant an elderly woman.”
“Good Heavens!” I exclaimed.