We were back at the same point—that we, between whom a quarrel was impossible, must apparently nevertheless quarrel.
"Look here," I said at last, "can't you see my position?"
"I can. It's a rotten one."
"If I saw the faintest glimmer of hope——"
"Espérance," he muttered.
"——even from their point of view. Aird isn't a fool. He heard Jennie speak in French to you, evidently the very first time she had spoken to you—regular monkeys'-parade business from his point of view—and he draws his own conclusions. And Mrs Aird isn't a fool either. She won't be in London two days before she's found out all about your mother."
"I see all that."
"Your mother didn't marry an Arnaud."
"Quite right. She'll know that too."
"And Aird's athlete enough to know you're no more poitrinaire than he is."