"My men are never typical," said Vivette. "I hate typical men. I'm sure Peter isn't typical."
"He'll get there some day," Atterbury assured her.
"Not as far as that," she quickly hoped.
For the first time Peter detected a note of sincerity in her. He turned and found her jealously perusing him. He faintly coloured, and this time he really went.
After he had left them, Vivette and Atterbury looked intelligently at one another.
"I really mean it," she said at last. "I shouldn't like Peter to be a typical man."
"It will depend on his luck."
"You mean he must fall into the right hands?"
"When he does fall."