“But I must, my Henri. She’s the best-looking, wittiest girl I ever saw—splendid. Never lonely with her.”
“Looks and brains isn’t everything, Fabian.”
“Isn’t it, though? Isn’t it? Tiens, you try it!”
“Not without goodness.” Henri’s voice weakened.
“That’s bosh. Of course it is, Henri, my dear. If you love a woman, if she gets hold of you, gets into your blood, loves you so that the touch of her fingers sets your pulses going pom-pom, you don’t care a sou whether she is good or not.”
“You mean whether she was good or not?”
“No, I don’t. I mean is good or not. For if she loves you she’ll travel straight for your sake. Pshaw, you don’t know anything about it!”
“I know all about it.”
“Know all about it! You’re in love—you?”
“Yes.”