I couldn't enter into that. If I had ever intended to do so the time for it would have been on that Sunday afternoon behind the rugosa roses.
"You actually mean that you want me to take you to the house, and introduce you to Mrs Aird, and open up the way to—God knows what?" I demanded incredulously.
"You offered to introduce me to Mrs Aird once before."
"I offered to introduce the man I then knew."
"Am I any worse now?"
"There's no question of better or worse. A thing can be done or it can't, and this can't."
"Do you mean because of my clothes and my being a Frenchman and all that?"
"I mean, simply, your being Derwent Rose. And I don't know that the other things are quite as simple as they look either."
"But I'm English really. And I've got a decent suit of English clothes."
"Do they fit you—or did they merely do so once?"