"What do you think of women, Professor? You have told us what you think about drains and creeper-covered cottages, let us have your opinion of the fair sex." Dimbie looked wicked. With unusual perspicacity he smelt a rat, and now he meant to run it to earth.
"What do I think of women! I—I—" (the Professor was now undoubtedly flurried) "I don't think anything of them."
"That is a little rude and unkind of you," I said.
"Eh, what?"
"That you should not think anything of them. Are they so very unworthy?"
The poor man looked worried.
"I—I think I must go now."
"No, don't go," I pleaded. "Do stay to supper. We do so want to hear your views upon women. We so often hear them upon men" (I glanced at Nanty) "that it will be quite refreshing to have a change."
"And—what are the views you hear upon men?" He also looked at Nanty.
"That they are all bad."