“Ah?” Tay sat up alertly. “Who else—who has wanted to take you out to Reno and marry you?”
“Oh, that is over long since. He remains a dear friend, my one intimate man friend—except you, of course—but we never meet any more except by accident. He has great responsibilities and is a good deal older now. It has become quite impracticable. Neither of us would desert England.”
“Did you ever love this man?”
“Not enough.”
“What is he like?”
“Oh, the best type of Englishman, and more, for he has genius, and uses it in the interest of the race.”
“Sounds like an infernal prig.”
“He is not!”
“Oh! Is he good-looking?”
“Rather!”