Rallywood woke up from his thoughts and shook himself.
'Unziar,' he returned with a grin.
Counsellor opened the stove and threw in the remnant of his cigar.
'Ah!' he commented significantly; 'and I presume Unziar goes there to meet you. I begin to see.'
Rallywood laughed.
'I'm hanged if I do! By the way, the Countess wants of all things to make a friend of you. She says the English are so reliable. But you are such an old bear the women can't get at you.'
'So much the better for me,' was the grim reply. 'Also I am sorry that I can't reciprocate the Countess's opinion of me. There are very few reliable women. If I had ever found one I might have married her.'
'That is a hard saying, Major. You've been unlucky. That's where it hurts with you!'
'No, I've no personal feeling in the matter. I share the opinion in common with many wise men. Let me refer you to Solomon, the census of whose harem warrants us in believing that what he didn't know about women wasn't worth knowing. Yet he records as his experience, "One man among a thousand have I found; but a woman among all these have I not found."'
'I bet he didn't! You can't sample a delicate quality in the bulk,' retorted Rallywood, and was already at the door when an idea stopped him. 'Look here, Major; come with me and revise your verdict.'