"You little goose," said Molly Wycherly, "everybody knows the kind of man he is. Could anything be more brazen than his attentions to you while Mary Ledwith is in Reno?"
"He says that her being there has nothing to do with him."
"Then he lies," said Molly, shrugging her shoulders.
"He doesn't speak as though he were trying to deceive anybody, Molly. He is perfectly frank to me. I can't believe that scandal. Besides he is quite open and manly about his unsavoury reputation; makes no excuses; simply says that there's good in every man, and that there is always one woman in the world who can bring it out——"
"Oh, mushy! What an out-of-date whine! He's bad all through I tell you——"
"No man is!" insisted Strelsa.
"What?"
"No man is. The great masters of fiction always ascribe at least one virtue to their most infamous creations——"
"Oh, Strelsa, you talk like a pan of fudge! I tell you that Langly Sprowl is no good at all. I hope you won't have to marry him to find out."
"I don't intend to.... How inconsistent you are, Molly. You—and everybody else—believe him to be the most magnificent match in——"