“You are severe,” she pouted. “Of course I ought not to mimic you——”
“Pray do. I had no idea I spoke so nicely.”
“Thank you. But I am serious. I have espoused Miss Wynton’s cause, and there will be nothing but unhappiness for her while that other girl remains here.”
“I hope you are mistaken,” he said slowly, meeting her quizzing glance without flinching.
“That is precisely where a woman’s point of view differs from a man’s,” she countered. “In our lives we are swayed by things that men despise. We are conscious of sidelong looks and whisperings. We dread the finger of scorn. When you have a wife, Mr. Spencer, you will begin to realize the limitations of the feminine horizon.”
“Are you asking me to take this demonstrative young lady in hand?”
“I believe you would succeed.”
Spencer smiled again. He had not credited Mrs. de la Vere with such fine perceptiveness. If her words meant anything, they implied an alliance, offensive and defensive, for Helen’s benefit and his own.
“Guess we’ll leave it right there till I’ve had a few words with Miss Wynton,” he said, dropping suddenly into colloquial phrase.
“A heart to heart talk, in fact.” She laughed pleasantly, and opened her cigarette case.