"You have never thought of such a thing perhaps?" he suggested.
She smiled a woman's pitying smile.
"Of course I have thought of it."
"Then you have not yet met the man to whom you would care to entrust yourself?" he asked.
She took fire at this. It was an act of presumption not to be borne.
"Even if I had," she said, with burning cheeks, "I do not think I should make Lord Ronald Prior my confidant."
"No?" he said. "Yet you might do worse."
Her eyes shot scorn.
"Can a man be worse than inept?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered. "Since you ask me, I think he can—a good deal worse."