“I have subjugated Louise,” he said with mock pride. “I’m willing to wager that no other man could have done it under fifteen years, and it has taken me only eight. And I’ve never once used the whip. Simply and solely the power of the eye. I subjugate all my wives,” he added. “I am a terrible fellow.”
He picked up and examined an old spoon that lay on Madame Claire’s table, and was about to change the subject, when his wife’s cold voice interrupted him.
“Oh, I don’t claim that you’re any worse than the general run of husbands.”
“Thank you, my dear. I can only suppose that you took one to yourself in a moment of weakness.” Then, throwing off his annoyance:
“What a charming spoon! It’s Charles the Second. You’ve never shown me this.”
“Judy gave it to me the other day,” said Madame Claire, her face brightening. “She’s very clever at picking up these things. But then—who taught her?”
“Ah, well, you can’t teach everybody,” he answered, turning it over in his fingers.
“You can’t, for instance, teach your wife,” threw in Louise. “But there’s one thing I have learnt since my marriage, Madame Claire, and that is my limitations.”
“You underrate yourself, Louise,” said Madame Claire calmly. “Do tell me about Gordon. Noel and Judy believe he’s really interested in Helen Dane. Do you think he is?”
“He’s there a great deal,” answered Eric, “but then that may mean nothing. Ottway, her father, is a good sort, but pompous.”