"Quite so. Unless a thing was really interesting, stood out, as it were,
he had no use for it--nor for man nor woman."

"Lady Folingsby, for instance."

"Do you know, Mostyn, that even to-day, whenever she meets me, I can see
one question in her eyes: 'Where is he?' Always, always that. He found
life and people so interesting that he couldn't help but be interesting
himself. Whatever he was, I never knew a woman speak ill of him. . . .
Once a year there comes to me a letter from an artist girl in Paris,
written in language that gets into my eyes. There is always the one
refrain: 'He will return some day. Say to him that I do not forget.'"

"Whatever his faults, he was too big to be anything but kind to a woman,
was Ted."

"I remember the day when his resignation was so promptly accepted by
the Admiralty. He walked up to the Admiral--Farquhar it was, on the
Bolingbroke--and said: 'Admiral, if I'd been in your place I'd have done
the same. I ought to resign, and I have. Yet if I had to do it over
again, I'd be the same. I don't repent. I'm out of the Navy now, and it
doesn't make any difference what I say, so I'll have my preachment out.
If I were Admiral Farquhar, and you were Edward Debney, ex-commander, I'd
say: "Debney, you're a damned good fellow and a damned bad officer."'

"The Admiral liked Edward, in spite of all, better than any man in the
Squadron, for Ted's brains were worth those of any half-dozen officers
he had. He simply choked, and then, before the whole ship, dropped
both hands on his shoulders, and said: 'Debney, you're a damned good
fellow and a damned bad officer, and I wish to God you were a damned bad