"There may be. But they are not in the Far East. When I was in Shanghai, every woman in the settlement had her price, if you only knew what it was."
"I don't know what they are in Shanghai," replied De Vaux. "But I do know what they are in some other places, and I'll stake my honour on it they are not all like that. 'Pon my soul, they're not."
"Name one."
"Mrs. Beauchamp."
"Bound by conventionalities and kept in a glass case by her husband," sneered Carteret. "Get her out of that and she'd be just like the rest."
De Vaux struggled to his feet, his face purple, his voice choking with rage.
"Carteret," he stuttered in his high voice, "that's a lie—-a damned lie! ... If you don't take it back"—he shook his fist across the table—"if you don't take it back, by God, I'll expose you!"
Carteret paled, sat up in his chair, and took the pipe out of his mouth.
"Look here, De Vaux," he said, "don't make a confounded fool of yourself. One would think that you were the lady's husband. I didn't mean anything. I was only joshing."
"Well, that's a kind of joshing I don't like when it is about my friends.... 'Pon my soul, I don't!" replied De Vaux, settling himself back into his chair.