“Baron,” said the Count imperturbably, “what did you tell me the Wraith said to you—something about 'Beware of the ladies,' wasn't it?”
“You do not onderstand. Ze ghost” (he found some difficulty in pronouncing the spirit's chosen name) “did soppose naturally zat I vas ze real Lord Tollyvoddle, who is, as you have told me yourself, Bonker, somezing of a fast fish. Ze varning vas to him obviously, so you should not turn it upon me.”
Bunker opened his eyes.
“A deuced ingenious argument,” he commented. “It wouldn't have occurred to me if you hadn't explained. Then you claim the privilege of wooing whom you wish?”
“Wooing! You forget zat I am married, Bonker.”
“Oh no, I remember perfectly.”
His tone disturbed the Baron. Taking the Count's arm, he said to him with moving earnestness—
“Have I not told you how constant I am—like ze magnet and ze pole?”
“I have heard you employ the simile.”
“Ach, bot it is true! I am inside my heart so constant as it is possible! But I now represent Tollyvoddle, and for his sake most try to do my best.”