The nonsense is on your side. I know what I am
talking about, and I know Mary Davis. She is one of those women for
whom a man obscures the landscape. She will flirt on her deathbed,
or any-body else's deathbed, which is worse. Come now, be honest.
She has been doing it, hasn't she?"
"Certainly not."
"I suppose you have to say that. I'll put it in another way. What
is your opinion of Mary?"
"She is an interesting woman."
"You find her more interesting than you did upon her former visit?"
"I hardly remember her former visit. I never really knew her
before."
"And you know her now?"
"She has honored me with a certain amount of confidence."
Aunt Caroline snorted. "I thought so. Well, she doesn't need to
honor me with her confidence because I know her without it. Was she
honoring you that way last night when you stayed out in the garden
until mid-night?"
"We were talking, naturally."
"And--your wife?"
There was a moment's pause while the cigarette smoke grew bluer. "My
wife," said Benis, "was very well occupied."
"You mean that when Dr. John saw how distrait and pale she was, he
took her for a run in his car? Now admit, Benis, that you made it
plain that you wished her to go."
"Did I?"
"Yes," significantly, "too plain. Mary saw it--and John. You are
acting strangely, Benis. I don't like it, that's flat. Desire is too
much with John. And you are too much with Mary. It is not a natural
arrangement.
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