“Mr. Hicks plays well,” said Lydia, judicially, “but he doesn't really know so much of music as Mr. Dunham.”
“No?” responded Staniford, with irony. “I will tell Dunham. No doubt he's been suffering the pangs of professional jealousy. That must be the reason why he keeps away.”
“Keeps away?” asked Lydia.
“Now I've made an ass of myself!” thought Staniford. “You said that he seemed to have lost his interest,” he answered her.
“Oh! Yes!” assented Lydia. And then she remained rather distraught, pulling at the ruffling of her dress.
“Dunham is a very accomplished man,” said Staniford, finding the usual satisfaction in pressing his breast against the thorn. “He's a great favorite in society. He's up to no end of things.” Staniford uttered these praises in a curiously bitter tone. “He's a capital talker. Don't you think he talks well?”
“I don't know; I suppose I haven't seen enough people to be a good judge.”
“Well, you've seen enough people to know that he's very good looking?”
“Yes?”
“You don't mean to say you don't think him good looking?”