“In daughters?” said June sardonically.
“In everything. Only last night I read in the paper that there isn’t a better judge of pictures living.”
June merely said “Oh!”
“He’s one of the trustees of the National Gallery, you know.”
“Oh!” said June.
“And owns a very fine private collection of the Dutch School.”
“Does he?” It was June’s turn now to be impersonal; in fact, it was up to her to let him see that it would take more than Sir Arthur Babraham and a private collection of the Dutch School to impress her.
“I suppose his daughter is what you’d call rather fetching?” She had once heard the word on the lips of the admired Miss Banks at a charity bazaar.
But in William’s opinion it was not adequate to the occasion.
“To my mind,” he said, and his voice fell, “she’s a non-such.”