A fine figure of a man, though one, she felt instinctively, belonging to a very different world to hers. Because she felt his careful scrutiny, and because she wanted to assert her indifference to it, she remarked suddenly, after a moment:
“Well, how do you like me by daylight?”
“How do you like me?” he retorted, and laughed.
She shook her head, and her eyes grew mischievous.
“Old,” she said; “quite old and grey.”
“Old be damned! Forty-eight is the prime of life.”
She was taking her seat, and gave a low chuckle of enjoyment at having drawn him.
“Ah, you may laugh now,” he said, “but I’ll soon show you forty-eight is far more attractive than twenty-eight. Where shall we go?”
“I don’t mind in the least, but I should prefer to steer for tea and buns.”
“Tea and buns!… how like a woman!… How can you expect to get the vote on tea and buns?”