To her father:
“What's the matter with Mother?”
Her father answered:
“Matter? What should be the matter?” and gave her a sharp look.
“By the way,” murmured Fleur, “Monsieur Profond is going a 'small' voyage on his yacht, to the South Seas.”
Soames examined a branch on which no grapes were growing.
“This vine's a failure,” he said. “I've had young Mont here. He asked me something about you.”
“Oh! How do you like him, Father?”
“He—he's a product—like all these young people.”
“What were you at his age, dear?”