A cold feeling came over me.
"By the way, Mr. Somers pays you compliments in his note. How old are you? I forget." He surveyed me with a doubtful look. Are you thin, or what is it?"
"East wind, I guess. I am twenty-five."
"And Veronica?"
"Over twenty."
"She must be married. I hope she will cut her practical eye-teeth then, for Somers's sake."
"He does not require a practically minded woman."
"What do men require!"
"They require the souls and bodies of women, without having the trouble of knowing the difference between the one and other."
"So bad as that? Whoa!"