“Do you keep a girl, my lord?”
“No, for I am unfortunate enough to be disgusted with a woman after I have had her for a day.”
“Then you require a fresh one every day?”
“Yes, and without being as comfortable as you I spend four times as much. You must know that I live in London like a stranger. I never dine at my own house. I wonder at your dining alone.”
“I can’t speak English. I like soup and good wine, and that is enough to keep me from your taverns.”
“I expect so, with your French tastes.”
“You will confess that they are not bad tastes.”
“You are right, for, good Englishman as I am, I get on very well in Paris.”
He burst out laughing when I told him how I had dispatched a score of wenches at the “Staven Tavern,” and that my disappointment was due to him.
“I did not tell you what names to send for, and I was wrong.”