"'I don't see any reason why a woman should be different from a man,' Jerry went on. 'Men don't cry, why should women? I've always thought the Greeks were right. To me there's only one sin the world and that's weakness.'
"You'll pardon me, Pope, if I say that he sounded very much like you," he laughed. "He had the preaching tone, the assertiveness. It was most amusing. Imagine the paradox, this babe, an ascetic and this worldling, a sybarite, meeting upon a common ground! For I really believe she was sincere about her self-sufficiency. Whatever her tastes, she's no weakling."
"But she's trivial, a smatterer, a decadent—"
"And handsome," laughed Ballard. "Don't forget that."
"Mere looks will never ensnare Jerry."
"I hope not, but she'll teach him a thing or two before she's through with him."
I was silent for some moments, and then: "What else do you know of this girl?" I asked.
"Nothing. I've painted you the picture as well as I could. The conversation that followed was unimportant. Her remarks became guarded and later descended to the mere commonplace."
"She is dangerous," I said.
"I've warned Jerry. He laughed at me."