love--perhaps that is, after all, the type women really like best. It
is sheer nonsense to say that women enjoy being tyrannised over. No
doubt there are some who would rather be bullied than ignored. But the
hectoring man is, with few exceptions, secretly detested. In so far as
one can generalise (always a dangerous thing to do) it may be said that
women like best a kind, clever man who can be always trusted; and
occasionally (if necessary) deceived.

Aylmer hardly ever got angry except in an argument about ideas. Yet his
feelings were violent; he was impulsive, and under his suave and
easy-going manner emotional. He was certainly good-looking, but had he
not been he would have pleased all the same. He seemed to radiate
warmth, life, a certain careless good-humour. To be near him was like
warming one's hands at a warm fire. Superficially susceptible and
inclined to be experimental he had not the instinct of the collector
and was devoid of fatuousness. But he could have had more genuine
successes than all the Don Juans and Romeos and Fausts who ever climbed
rope ladders. Besides his physical attraction he inspired a feeling of
reliance. Women felt safe with him; he would never treat anyone badly.
He inspired that kind of trust enormously in men also, and his house
was constantly filled with people asking his advice and begging him to
do things--sometimes not very easy ones. He was always being left
guardian to young persons who would never require one, and said himself
he had become almost a professional trustee.

As Aylmer was generous and very extravagant in a way of his own (though
he cared nothing for show), he really worked hard at the bar to add to
his already large income. He always wanted a great deal of money. He
required ease, margin and elbow-room. He had no special hobbies, but he
needed luxury in general of a kind, and especially the luxury of