“Not care for you? She must be a fool.”
He inclined his head in the slightest of bows.
“You are my sister, and prejudiced.”
“I know a man when I see one, whether he’s my brother or not.” She gave a short laugh. “Mon Dieu! I ought to, by this time.”
“My wife,” said Eric, “considers me a tiresome and conceited fellow. She dislikes a great many things about me; no doubt with reason.”
“Jealous,” commented his sister, who could see through other women.
He shrugged his shoulders.
“So some of my friends say. I cannot understand it. But you needn’t see much of each other.”
“I think I know her sort,” said Connie, watching the smoke from her cigarette. “Well, we both seem to have made a mess of things.”
This struck Eric as humorous, but not a sign of his amusement appeared in his face.