"Why, there it is. We can neither bear to be with you nor to be without
you. I protest, ma'am, your sex was made for our torture. 'Tis why you
parade it and delight in it."

"Lud, sir, you are mighty rude," my lady simpered. "I parade my sex?
Alack, my modesty!"

"Modesty--that's but another weapon to madden us. Fie, ma'am, why do you
clothe yourself in such beauty but to flaunt upon our senses that sex of
yours?" My lady was duly shocked and hid behind her fan. "Aye, there it
is! We catch a whiff of paradise and straightway it is denied us. Our
nightingale there is silent when we draw near. Our Venus here hides
herself when our eyes would enjoy her. As His Grace said to me, you women
are like heaven to a damned soul."

"You are a wicked fellow," said Lady Waverton with relish.

Geoffrey at his elbow put in, "'His Grace,' Colonel?"

"The Old Corporal, Mr. Waverton. The Duke of Marlborough."

"You have served with him, sir?"

Colonel Boyce gave a laugh of genial condescension. "Why, yes, Mr.
Waverton, I stand as close to His Grace as most men."

After a moment of impressive silence, the Wavertons vigorously directed
the conversation to the Duke of Marlborough. Colonel Boyce made no
objection. In the most obliging manner he admitted them to a piquant
intimacy with His Grace's manners and customs. He mingled things personal