"What else?"
"Knowledge of the world, and how to use it."
"And what else?" she asked, her hand straying slowly over until it lay just short of his own.
"Knowledge of men—and their eccentricities."
"Which might mean I am a flirt," she said.
He laughed softly, "Do you want me to say you are not a flirt?"
"No—not exactly," joining in the laugh; "but there are different sorts of flirts, you know, monsieur."
"The expert and the inexpert?"
"Yes—and the good and the bad, in a moral sense."
"I am endeavouring to praise you, mademoiselle," he said.