"I am trying to see the whole scheme," he said, looking at her seriously. "Sassoon, Blood,—twenty others, I understand,—excitement and all that. How long have you been in it?"
"In what?"
"In this maelstrom of New York?"
"Two years, almost!"
"Ah, then there must be a man or two behind the rocks!"
"How funnily you express things," she said, half guessing his meaning. "Just what do you mean?"
He took out his cigarette-case, asked permission with a nod, and lighting a match, said:
"The man behind the rock? Oh, that's obvious! The man you have only to whistle for, the passably acceptable man, safe, eligible, marriageable. The man who will come forward at any time! Every woman understands that. Perhaps there are several rocks, way back in the background? No fibbing, now!"
She laughed, and thinking of Peavey, blushed under his quick gaze.
"Yes, of course."