Montague smiled in spite of himself.
“Oh, I know,” said she. “It wouldn’t have been easy. But you’ve no idea what a beautiful boy Charlie used to be, until all the women set to work to ruin him.”
“I can imagine it,” said Montague; but he did not warm to the subject.
“You’re just like my husband,” said Mrs. Winnie, sadly. “You have no use at all for anything that’s weak or unfortunate.”
There was a pause. “And I suppose,” she said finally, “you’ll be turning into a business man also—with no time for anybody or anything. Have you begun yet?”
“Not yet,” he answered. “I’m still looking round.”
“I haven’t the least idea about business,” she confessed. “How does one begin at it?”
“I can’t say I know that myself as yet,” said Montague, laughing.
“Would you like to be a protégé of my husband’s?” she asked.
The proposition was rather sudden, but he answered, with a smile, “I should have no objections. What would he do with me?”