Eden shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't expect you," she said; "I am sure that I wouldn't have received you if I had."
"Ah, that is hardly gracious now."
"Besides, your reputation is deplorable."
"No one has any reputation, nowadays," Maule answered, with the air of a man describing the state of the weather. "You hear the most scandalous things about everyone. Who has been talking against me? A woman, I wager. Do you know what hell is paved with?"
"Not with your good intentions, I am positive."
"It is paved with women's tongues. That is what it is paved with. What am I accused of now?"
"As if I knew or cared. In my opinion you are depraved, and that is sufficient."
"Why do you call me depraved? You are not fair. Depravity is synonymous with the unnatural. Girls in short frocks don't interest me. Never yet have I loitered in the boudoir of a cocotte. Corydon was not a gentleman whom I would imitate. Neither was Narcissus. On the other hand, I like refined women. I have an unquestionable admiration for a pretty face. What man whose health is good has not? If capacity for such admiration constitutes depravity, then depraved I am." He paused. "H'm," he muttered to himself, "there's nothing of the Joseph about me."
But he might have continued his speech aloud. Eden had ceased to hear, her thoughts were far away. He looked at her inquiringly.
"Something is the matter," he said at last. "What has happened?"