"It does you credit, Miss Pearl," murmured Ralph, feeling called upon to say something polite.
Rosy Pearl looked at him like an offended goddess. "I do not know whether you mean to be sarcastic, Mr. Shawe, but let me tell you that sarcasm is out of place. Are you one of those men who do not believe that a woman can be virtuous in the midst of temptation?"
"Not at all, Miss Pearl. There are good women on the stage, and often bad women in Church circles. It is a question of temperament."
"It is a question of doing what is right, Mr. Shawe," said the goddess, with a disdainful look. "I am a dancer, it is true, but no one can say a word against me."
"I don't think anyone has said a word," Ralph ventured to remark.
"If they did," said Miss Pearl, sharply, "I would bring a libel action against them without delay. My solicitors have instructions to take notice of any flippant remark made about me, and to deal with it as it deserves."
"With such precautions you must be, like Cæsar's wife, above suspicion."
"I do not know Mrs. Cæsar," said Rosy Pearl, coldly, and betrayed her lack of educational knowledge in the remark. "I attend to my own business and to nothing else. I daresay you wonder, Mr. Shawe, why, with these sentiments, I am on the music-hall stage?"
"Well," Ralph admitted, more and more puzzled by this simplicity, but unable to tell if it were real or feigned, "I must say that I do wonder."
"It's because I am stupid."