I may say she does not sound in the least like Mary,’ said Mrs Sindlesham bluntly. “Well, I have said what I had to say, stumblingly and badly, and baldly. She went from period to period exactly as she would have read prose; so that sense and music were equally balanced. Her disapproval was obvious enough. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. “One has to be so careful of one’s friends and acquaintances,” he remarked, by way of transition. “Should I leave? Sounds like she is running out of food. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. “You are Mademoiselle Pellissier?” he asked, without rising to his feet. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being.
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