"Absolutely between ourselves," he said. "Did you?"
Under Mr. Waddington's iron-grey moustache you could see the Rabelaisian smile answering the Rabelaisian twinkle. For the life of him he couldn't resist it.
"Well—between ourselves, Corbett, absolutely—to be perfectly honest, I did. There is something about her…. Just for a second, you know. It didn't come to anything."
"Didn't it? She says you made violent love to her."
"I won't swear what I wouldn't have done if I hadn't pulled myself up in time."
At this point it occurred to him that if Elise had betrayed the secret of his love-making she would also have told her own tale of its repulse. That had to be accounted for.
"I can tell you one queer thing about that woman, Corbett. She's cold—cold."
"Oh, come, Waddington—"
"You wouldn't think it—"
"I don't," said Sir John, with a loud guffaw.