“Nor could I,” he confessed. “But I remember old Casaubon. Dorothea married him because she thought he would be such a clever husband to have—and so he was! Too clever by half! Something like your Philosopher.”
“Not quite!” she demurred. “Casaubon had no sense of humour. My Philosopher has quite a humorous turn sometimes.”
“At other folks’ expense,” said Jack. “Oh, yes—I daresay! I’ve caught him sneering at me now and then!”
She laughed.
“That’s only because he’s jealous!”
“Jealous?”
“Yes. Jealous of you!”
Jack drew himself up and patted his own broad chest with a smile of self-satisfaction.
“That’s good news anyhow!” he said. “I’m glad I can irritate the old rascal—”
“Jack!”