He had not chosen the words. They came out automatically. To discuss
Davenant offered an excuse for detaining her, while postponing the blow
for a few minutes more.

"Oh, men would," she said, indifferently, without turning round. "He's
their style."

"Which is to his discredit?"

"Not to his discredit, but to his disadvantage. I've noticed that what
they call a man's man is generally something of a bore."

"Davenant isn't a bore."

"Isn't he? Well, I really didn't notice in particular. I only remember
that he used to be about here years ago--and I didn't like him. I
suppose Drusilla has to be civil to him because he was Cousin Rodney's
ward."

She had paused on the landing at the angle of the staircase.

"He's good-looking," Guion said, in continued effort to interpose the
trivial between himself and what he had still to tell her.

"Oh, that sort of Saxon giant type is always good-looking. Of course.
And dull too."

"I dare say he isn't as dull as you think."

"He might be that, and still remain pretty dull, after the allowances