He lifted his long lashes, that were like a girl's, and looked at her.
The minutes that had passed had altered his expression. There was again
a sparkle of resolve, perhaps of relief, in his glance. Without changing
his position, he spoke drowsily, and yet reassuringly, like a man with a
large and easy grasp of the situation. She was not sure whether it was a
renewal of confidence on his part or a bit of acting.

"No, dear, no. I wanted to get your point of view. It's always
interesting to me. I see your objections--of course. I may say that I
even shared some of them--till--"

She allowed him a minute in which to resume, but, as he kept silence,
she ventured to ask:

"Does that mean that you don't share them now?"

"I see what there is to be said--all round. It isn't to be expected,
dear, that you, as a woman, not used to business--"

"Oh, but I didn't understand that this _was_ business. That's just the
point. To borrow money might be business--to borrow it on security, you
know, or whatever else is the usual way--but not to take it as a
present."

He jerked himself up into a forward posture. When he replied to her, it
was with didactic, explanatory irritation.

"When I said that, I was legitimately using language that might be
called exaggerated. Hyperbole is, I believe, the term grammarians use