Her satiric tone was not lost on “Sir Richard.” He would have been stupid else.
“Rural? Not a doubt of it!” he admitted. “You lend me money on sight and take me for a title and no questions asked. What makes you think I am Sir Richard?”
“I don’t think so now; and I’m awfully sorry. Your enunciation is sort of English—you know—clear, broad vowels, lots of sharp ‘t’s,’ no ‘r’s’ to speak of; but you haven’t once said, ‘Quite so,’ or ‘Really!’ or ‘Silly ass!’”
“I am half English. I went to school in England.”
“Ah!” she mimicked. “That explains much—ah!—much! And was it a school in the country?”
“Yes!” he explained eagerly. “Quite in the country. It was an omnibus and two trains away from London.”
“Ah!” She “ah-ed” very significantly, and added, “Much! Ah, much—much.”
“We’re even,” he owned.
“Only even?” she opened her eyes very wide.
He was about to surrender completely when the host in the doorway announced luncheon.