He drank some tea, and ate some toast, spreading the butter upon it with voluptuous deliberation.
“Then I’m sure he’s pleased.”
“Paris, hateful Paris!”
“Oh, but that’s abusive. A person who feels good all over should not say that.”
“You are right, Vere. But when are you not right? You ought always to wear your hair down, mon enfant, and always to have just been bathing.”
“And you ought always to have just been travelling.”
“It is true that a dreadful past can be a blessing as well as a curse. It is profoundly true. Why have I never realized that before?”
“If I am twelve and a half, I think you are about—about—”
“For the love of the sea make it under twenty, Vere.”
“Nineteen, then.”