“In every town of any size I ever visited.”
“Oh, I daresay you have met many pretty girls, but only one of them is the most beautiful in America.”
Again Stranleigh smiled, but this time removed his pipe, which had gone out, and gently tapped it on the ash tray.
“My dear Ned,” he said at last, “on almost any other subject I should hesitate to venture an opinion that ran counter to your own experience, yet in this instance I think you wrong the great Republic. I am not very good at statistics, but if you will tell me how many of your fellow-countrymen are this moment in love, I’ll make a very accurate estimate regarding the number of most beautiful women there are in the United States.”
“Like yourself, Stranleigh, I always defer to the man of experience, and am glad to have hit on one subject in which you are qualified to be my teacher.”
“I like that! Ned Trenton depreciating his own conquests is a popular actor in a new rôle. But you are evading the point. I was merely trying in my awkward way to show that every woman is the most beautiful in the world to the man in love with her.”
“Very well; I’ll frame my question differently. Would you like to meet one of the most cultured of her sex?”
“Bless you, my boy, of course not! Why, I’m afraid of her already. It is embarrassing enough to meet a bright, alert man, but in the presence of a clever woman, I become so painfully stupid that she thinks I’m putting it on.”
“Then let me place the case before you in still another form. Would your highness like to meet the richest woman in Pennsylvania?”