"You've had very little to do with girls, ever," Mr. Wycherly said thoughtfully. "It is rather a pity. I sometimes wish we knew some nice little girls for you to play with. They have, I expect, a refining influence."
"I don't want any refining influences if it's princesses and that sort of thing. I couldn't go on doing it to please anybody."
"She's only a baby, Edmund. You liked all sorts of queer games when you were very little. I'm sure I'd be quite willing to play princes or anything else to please the young lady."
"And go down on your knees?"
"Certainly," said Mr. Wycherly, who, however, looked rather startled, "if it gave her pleasure."
"I suppose we gave her pleasure," Edmund grumbled, "but she didn't seem over-pleased, somehow. I can't think what she wanted, really."
"Perhaps she didn't know herself."
"Oh, yes, she did, for she was so sure we were doing it wrong."
"Perhaps," suggested Mr. Wycherly, with unconscious irony, "it is a better game for two."
"Well, you won't catch Montagu and me playing that game anyhow."