"I do. I think she's furiously funny, and horribly pathetic. All the time, you know, she thinks she's leading me upward. Profanity's my only refuge from hypocrisy."
"Oh no, not your only refuge. You say she thinks she's leading you. Don't let her think it. Make her think you're leading her."
"Do you think," said Majendie, "she'd enjoy that quite so much?"
"She'd enjoy it more. If you took her the right way. The way I mean."
"What's that?"
"You must find out," said she. "I'm not going to tell you everything."
Majendie became thoughtful. "My only fear was that I couldn't keep it up. But you really don't think, then, that I should score much if I did?"
"No, my dear, I don't. And as for keeping it up, you never could. And if you did she'd never understand what you were doing it for. That's not the way to show you're in love with her."
"But that's just what I don't want her to see. That's what she hates so much in me. I've always understood that in these matters it's discreeter not to show your hand too plainly. You see, it's just as if we'd never been married, for all she cares. That's the trouble."
"There's something in that. If she's not in love with you—"