"I like men," she said, smiling at him.
"What you probably mean is that you like admiration."
"I do. It's agreeable; it's sanitary; it's soothing. It invigorates one's self-confidence and self-respect. And it doesn't disarrange one's hair and rumple one's gown. Therefore, I prefer the undemonstrative admiration of a man to the indiscreet demonstrations of a boy."
"Do you mean me?" he asked, furious.
But she ignored the question:
"Boys are funny," she said, swinging her velvet reticule in circles. "Any girl can upset their equilibrium. All a girl has to do is to look at a boy sideways—the way Lady Button-eyes looked at you yesterday afternoon——"
"What!"
"At the Rochambeau. And you got up and went over and renewed your friendship with her. Helen and I saw you."
"I was merely civil," he said.
"So was she. She fished out a card and wrote on it. I don't know what she wrote."