“Neither do I. But some things are your own affair, and it is indecent to let other people see them.”
“Oh, a row’s a row!” said Logan cheerfully. “And one is all the better for it.”
“But if a woman treated me like that I should never speak to her again.”
“Love’s too deep for that. You can’t stand on your dignity in love.”
“I should make her understand once and for all that I would not have it.”
“Then she would deceive you. If you played the tyrant over a girl like Oliver she would deceive you.”
Mendel stared and his jaw dropped. Had Logan forgotten the night in Paris? Was he such a fool as to pretend he did not know, could not see that the whole liberation of frenzy in Oliver dated from that night? . . . Oh, well! It was no affair of his.
To change the subject he said:—
“We ought to get the press-cuttings to-morrow. I wonder if we shall sell the lot? It’s a good beginning, having tickets on your two.”