The boy had, too, a charm. His air of asking Mr. Nix's advice, as a man of the world. That was what Mr. Nix liked to be considered, and he told Harry many sensible things, especially about women.
"Don't let them catch you," was the burden of his opinion. "They are the devil for getting hold of a man before he knows where he is. Play with them, but don't take them seriously, until the right one comes along. You'll know it as soon as she does. So much wiser to wait. But they're clever ... damned clever...."
"You're right, sir," said Harry. "Ab-so-lute-ly: I remember a girl once——"
He plunged into reminiscence. Finally, however, he declared that he didn't care very much about women. He meant to lead his life apart from them. He'd watched other fellows and he knew the mess they could get into.... Especially married women....
"Ah! married women!" repeated Mr. Nix with a sigh. There wasn't much that he didn't know about married women. It was terrible the way that they were kicking over the traces these days. Really stopped at nothing. Why, he remembered a married woman....
Then Harry remembered a married woman....
Then Mr. Nix remembered still another married woman.
This led quite naturally to certain disclosures about Mrs. Nix. Mr. Nix had indeed reasons to be thankful. There was a woman who was corrupted by none of these modern ideas.
She was no prude, she knew her world, but she believed in the good old rules—"One man for one woman."
"It's been a bit lonely for her," Mr. Nix continued, "since Lancelot went, and it's a bit difficult to make her happy. I'm so busy all day, you see. Takes the whole of a man's time to run a place like this nowadays, I can tell you. Be nice to her, Harry. See as much of her as you can. She likes you."