"No. Perhaps that's why I hardly ever get them."
"My dear girl, I know the precise amount of Stanistreet's income. Money can't be any object to him. But perhaps you've a soul above boxes at the 'Criterion,' and champagne suppers afterwards, and the rest of it?"
"I have, unfortunately. But there wasn't any champagne." Her indifferent voice gave the lie to her beating pulses. Between playing and fighting there is only a difference of degree.
"Will you kindly tell me why you selected Stanistreet of all people for this business?"
"I didn't select him—he was always there."
"And if it hadn't been Stanistreet it would have been somebody else? I see. I hope you appreciate the peculiar advantages of his society?"
"I do. Louis is a gentleman, though he is your friend. He knows how to talk to women."
"If he doesn't it is not for want of practice. I could swallow all this, Molly, if you were a little girl just out of the schoolroom; but—I don't think you've much to learn."
Mrs. Nevill Tyson's eyes flashed. The play had turned to deadly earnest. "Not much, thanks to you," said she. Her voice sank. "Louis was good to me."
"Was he? 'Good' to you—How extremely touching! Pray, were you good to him?"