"I should think he did!" affirmed the epicurean Miss Jennings.
"—While you could never accept his gifts and his arrangements for your entertainment without just a little—what shall we say?—a dash of vinegar?"
The girl nodded.
"That's it," she said.
"Now," proceeded Philip, too much immersed in his subject to be surprised at his own fluency, "when two people who love one another reach that stage, they must get over it at once, or there will be friction, and finally disaster. Each must learn at once to consider things from the other's point of view—make allowances, in fact. Brand ought to—"
"Who?" enquired a sharp voice at his side.
"—Brand. It was Brand, wasn't it?"
Miss Jennings nodded.
"Yes," she said simply, "it was Brand. Go on."
"Brand," continued Philip, "ought to have remembered that you were a woman, with all a woman's reserve and instinct of self-defence; and that you could not be expected to wear your heart upon your sleeve."