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Chapter 7

           ForinstanceIshallneverrightmyself!Lifeishatefultomeattimes,asitistoeverybody."

           "Perhapsyouareinlove?"Isaidwithasmile.

           Hestartedup.

           "Inlove!Byalltheheavensandalltheearthstoo,thatsuggestionwakesmewithavengeance!Inlove!Whatwomanalivedoyouthinkcouldimpressmewiththenotionthatshewasanythingmorethanafrivolousdollofpinkandwhite,withlonghairfrequentlynotherown?Andasforthetom-boytennis-playersandgiantessesoftheera,Idonotconsiderthemwomenatall—theyaremerelytheunnaturalandstruttingembryosofanewsexwhichwillbeneithermalenorfemale.MydearTempest,Ihatewomen.SowouldyouifyouknewasmuchaboutthemasIdo.TheyhavemademewhatIam,andtheykeepmeso."

           "Theyaretobemuchcomplimentedthen,"—Iobserved—"Youdothemcredit!"

           "Ido!"heansweredslowly—"Inmorewaysthanone!"Afaintsmilewasonhisface,andhiseyesbrightenedwiththatcuriousjewel-likegleamIhadnoticedseveraltimesbefore."Believeme,Ishallnevercontestwithyousuchaslightgiftaswoman’slove,Geoffrey.Itisnotworthfightingfor.Andaproposofwomen,thatremindsme—IhavepromisedtotakeyoutotheEarlofElton’sboxattheHaymarketto-night—heisapoorpeer,verygoutyandsomewhatheavilyflavouredwithport-wine,buthisdaughter,LadySibyl,isoneofthebellesofEngland.Shewaspresentedlastseasonandcreatedquiteafurore.

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