“In thinking that you hold people only by your appearance, that your personality has nothing to say in the matter.”
“I am modest, but not so modest as that.”
“Well, then?”
“Personality is a crutch, a pretty good crutch; but so long as men are men they will put crutches second and—something else first. Yes, I know I’m a little bit vulgar, but everybody in London is.”
“I wish you lived in Rome.”
“I’ve seen people being vulgar there too. Besides, there may be reasons why it would not be good for me to live in Rome.”
She glanced at him again less impertinently, and suddenly her whole body looked softer and kinder.
“You must put up with my face, Robin,” she added. “It’s no good wishing me to be ugly. It’s no use. I can’t be.”
She laughed. Her ill-humour had entirely vanished.
“If you were—” he said. “If you were—!”