"Please to bear in mind that I make no claim to infallibility. I am a painter of landscape; out of my own sphere, I become an amateur. You are not bound to accept my judgment."
"Of course not," she replied simply.
"It occurred to me that I had been rather dictatorial."
"So you have, Mr. Mallard," she returned, looking at a picture.
"I am sorry. It's the failing of men who have often to be combative, and who live much in solitude. I will try to use a less offensive tone."
"I didn't mean that your tone was in the least offensive."
"A more polite tone, then—as you taught me yesterday."
"I had rather you spoke just as is natural to you."
Mallard laughed.
"Politeness is not natural to me, I admit. I am horribly uncomfortable whenever I have to pick my words out of regard to polite people. That is why I shun what is called society. What little I have seen of it has been more than enough for me."