Olivia conceived a sudden distaste for Percy’s.
“Not unless you particularly want to.”
“I? Good Lord!” said he.
“Why do you ever go, if it bores you like that?” she asked as the brougham started Victoria-wards.
“Ce que femme veut, Mauregard le veut.”
“I suppose that is why you’ve never made love to me.”
“How?” he asked, surprised out of his perfect English idiom.
“I’ve wanted you not to make love to me, and you haven’t.”
“But how could I make love to you, when I have been persecuting you with the confessions of my unhappy love affairs?”
“One can always find a means,” said Olivia. “That’s why I like you. You are such a good friend.”