"And it kept me so ignorant and backward," added Paul, "I used to think that fine ladies were animated fashion-plates."
"What do you think they are now?"
"I don't think; I know that they are ideal beings with the airs of Paradise and the graces of Paris."
"I used to think that men were stupid creatures who only cared about dinners and debentures and things of that sort," said Isabel.
"What do you think them now?"
"I know they are intelligent animals with abominable tempers."
Paul laughed. "You are very rude!"
"I know I am. That is because I care for you. I am always rude to the people I really care for."
"That is unwise of you," remarked Paul, "though a not uncommon form of unwisdom. I have often noticed that the people who are ready to die for you, never think it necessary to pass the salt. They seem to imagine that the greater includes the less—which it doesn't."
"The wise people," added Isabel, "are aware that if they only pay you compliments and open your umbrella for you, they will have all the credit of dying for you with none of the expense. They are clever enough to know that, in questions of manners, the less includes the greater—or at any rate infers it."