“I have had some experience with French people,” said Armour tranquilly.
“Well you don’t understand women, anyway.”
“And you do.”
“Yes, I know just how to manage them. I know how to do most things. With the boundless conceit of the average man I think I could run the universe. Why don’t you buy ma’m’selle some new gloves, Stanton? I noticed that she had on shabby ones the other day.”
Armour burst into one of his rare and mirthless laughs. “Really, Camperdown, you are hard to suit with regard to this young lady. Is this the fifth or the sixth time that you have interviewed me about her? Would you accept a position as lady’s maid out at Pinewood?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” said his listener with a growl.
“I want to do my duty by her,” said Armour. “She has always had a handsome allowance. I rarely notice a woman’s dress; but she certainly would have attracted my attention had she been imperfectly clad.”
“Do you ever look at her, Stanton?”
“Yes; occasionally.”
“You do not like her?”