“Sorry. My stupidity, I suppose. I fail to grasp it. Will you explain?”
“You said that Delphine was not a woman. If that is so, it’s her husband’s fault—and yours! And every other man’s with whom she comes in contact. You all treat her like a child, and expect her to behave as a child, and then turn round and abuse her because she dances to your tune.”
“Excuse me. Who abuses her?”
“You did. You said—”
“I said she was a charming child of whom I was very fond. Is that abuse?”
“In the—er—the connection in which you used it—in the way in which you said it, and meant it, and avoided saying something else—yes, it is.”
For a moment he looked as if he were going to laugh, then met my eyes, thought better of it, and grunted instead.
“Sorry. Again I don’t quite follow. But no doubt it is my illogical mind. I should be interested to know in what way you hold me responsible for Delphine’s shortcomings?”
“I have just told you. You treat her as a child who must be fed on sweetmeats, and bribed with treats and diversions; conversationally you talk down to her level. It never occurs to you to expect her to be in earnest about any one thing.”
“Well?”