He bowed. "I am speaking generally, of course."
She prodded the turf with her toe, and thought:
"I suppose you are right," she said; "you have had the experience, you ought to know. But, how many of the women you meet in London are optimists, think you?"
"Very few," he smiled.
"And why?—why?—Because you men have taught us to be cynics. You lie to us in word and deed, you deceive us, often to our shame, until we must fight back with the weapons God has given us. Even now, you are contemplating a campaign against Miss Marbury, attracted by that very optimism which should make her an easy conquest."
He held up his hands in protestation. "My dear lady! your imagination is wonderful—you are a very child in fancy—the dark must be full of queer things to you."
She laughed, a little, tantalizing laugh, and shot him a knowing look from under her long lashes.
"We shall see," she said: "I may be wrong, and, if I am, you have the proving of it."
"And, meanwhile, what of your campaign for Mr. Richard Maynadier?" he asked.
For a moment, she did not reply, regarding him, thoughtfully, the while.