"'That was it,' he said: 'only fancy the six-foot-one-and-three-quarters wedded to bare five feet! The absurdity struck me one night as we were waltzing and whirling past a looking-glass; I was obliged to bend double, though I never felt it till I saw it.'"
"Really, I have not patience," observed Mrs. Bradshaw. "And so her feelings were to be trampled upon because she was not tall enough to please him! Why did he not think of that before?"
"'But there was Lizzy Grey, related to half the aristocracy, with a voice like an angel.'
"'A vixen,' he said, 'though of exquisite beauty—could have torn my eyes out for the little attention I paid Mrs. Green.'
"'Little attention!' I repeated; 'more than little.'
"'Her wit was delicious,' he replied; 'but she was a widow! Only fancy the horror of being compared with 'My dear first husband!'
"'Then your conquest of Lady Di' Johnson! How badly you behaved to her!'
"'She was magnificent on horseback; and her cigarette as fascinating as the fan of a Madrid belle, or the tournure of a Parisian lady. They were her two points. But when she relinquished both, I believe in compliment to me, she became even more commonplace than the most commonplace woman.'"
"The puppy!" muttered the lady: "the dreadful puppy! I could not have believed it!"
Mr. Bradshaw did not heed the interruption, but continued: