"Exactly!"

"A bachelor's wisdom!" Harleston laughed.

"Why are you a bachelor?" Carpenter shrugged.

"Because I never--"

"--found the woman; or have been adroit enough to avoid her wiles,"
Carpenter cut in. "And whichever it is, you've shown your wisdom. Don't
spoil it now, Harleston, don't spoil it now. Millionaires and
day-labourers are the only classes that have any business to marry; the
rest of us chaps either can't afford the luxury, or are not quite poor
enough to be forced to marry in order to get a servant."

"You would be popular with the suffragettes," Harleston remarked.

"Worldly wisdom of any sort is never popular with those against whom it
warns."

"An aphorism!" Harleston laughed.

"Aphorism be damned; it's just plain horse sense. Don't do it, old man,
don't do it!"

"Don't do what?"

"Don't fall in love with Mrs. Clephane."

"Good Lord!" Harleston exclaimed.