“Look here, Mr. Tremorne,” she cried, “if you’ve got anything to say against me, I want you to say it right out like a man, and not to hint at it like a spiteful woman.”
“What have I said now?” I inquired very humbly.
“You know quite well what you have said. But if you imagine I am as stupid as you admit yourself to be, you’ll get left!”
“My dear madam,” I ventured; “one of the advantages of having a thick skin is that a person does not take offence where no offence is meant.”
“There you go again! You know very well that you were driving at me when you said that you refused to discuss one lady with another; because, if you meant anything at all, you meant that I was trying to do what you couldn’t bring yourself to do; and when you talk of ‘lady’ and ‘lady’ you are in effect putting Miss Stretton on an equality with me.”
“I should never think of doing so,” I replied, with a bow to the angry person beside me.
“Is that another?” she demanded. “Oh, you know very well what I mean. Do you consider Miss Stretton a lady?”
“My acquaintance with her is of the shortest, yet I should certainly call her a lady.”
“Then what do you call me?”
“A lady also.”