She stopped in her rapid walk and faced me.
“You’re a brute,” she said deliberately.
“You expressed that opinion before. Why not try something original?”
“Do you think that is a gentlemanly remark to make?” she asked.
“No, I don’t. Some years of vagabondage coupled with more recent events have destroyed all claim I ever possessed to being a gentleman.”
“You admit, then, you are the scum of the earth.”
“Oh, certainly.”
Suddenly she flounced herself down in the chair Hilda had occupied, and stared at me for a few moments. Then she said in a voice much modified:
“What were you and Miss Stretton discussing so earnestly when I came up?”