“Probably. You wouldn’t think it of Jack Remsen, would you?”
“I don’t know that I wouldn’t. Why not?”
“Oh, he gives the impression to those who don’t know him of being so particular about himself and so indifferent about all the rest of the world that isn’t a Remsen,” said Gloria.
“D’you think so?” queried Darcy carelessly. “That wasn’t the impression he gave me when I first met him.”
“What was your reading of his character, oh, wise and profound student of human nature?”
“If you laugh at me I won’t tell you,” retorted Darcy, and, as Gloria was openly laughing at her, proceeded to do it in the following inventory:
“I thought that if I was a very old, plain woman with a lot of bundles, or a sick cat, or a man in an awful mess, I’d look to him first in any crowd.”
“Jack would like that,” commented Gloria, with her sunlit smile.
“But not if I were a plain, little, unnoticeable girl”
Gloria twinkled. “An afterthought,” she declared. “Meaning yourself?”