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"
Mrs. Fyne was disappointed by the optimistic turn of my sagacity. She
rested her eyes on my face as though in doubt whether I had enough
femininity in my composition to understand the case.
I waited for her to speak. She seemed to be asking herself; Is it after
all, worth while to talk to that man? You understand how provoking this
was. I looked in my mind for something appallingly stupid to say, with
the object of distressing and teasing Mrs. Fyne. It is humiliating to
confess a failure. One would think that a man of average intelligence
could command stupidity at will. But it isn't so. I suppose it's a
special gift or else the difficulty consists in being relevant.
Discovering that I could find no really telling stupidity, I turned to
the next best thing; a platitude. I advanced, in a common-sense tone,
that, surely, in the matter of marriage a man had only himself to please.
Mrs. Fyne received this without the flutter of an eyelid. Fyne's
masculine breast, as might have been expected, was pierced by that old,
regulation shaft. He grunted most feelingly.


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