“Upon my word, I’ve not had even one,” he reiterated.
“It seems incredible. How have you contrived it?”
“The circumstances of my birth contrived it for me. It would be impossible for me to have a love affair with a woman I could love,” he said.
“Impossible? For goodness sake, why?” she wondered.
“What woman would accept the addresses of a man without a name?”
“Haven’t you a name? Methought I’d heard your name was William Stretton.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Then permit me to remark,” she answered him, “that what you mean is quite superlatively silly. If you loved a woman, wouldn’t you tell her so?”
“Not if I could help it.”
“But suppose the woman loved you?”