'Why not? Because he's my friend, I suppose? You look down on him just
because he's a hard worker, and of some use in the world--not a
dandified, conventional, wasp-waisted idiot like Cecil Reeve! Perhaps
you prefer Cecil Reeve?'

'Much,' replied Edith firmly.

'Why? Let's hear your reasons.'

'Why, he's a real person. I know where I am when I'm talking to
him--we're on the same platform.'

'Platform?'

'Yes. When I talk to Mr Raggett I feel as if he had arrived at Victoria,
and I had gone to meet him at Charing Cross. Do you see? We don't get
near enough to understand each other.'

'Quite near enough,' replied Bruce suspiciously. Then he said, 'I feel
the want of air. If you don't mind, dear, I think I shall go for
a stroll.'

'Oh, don't!'

He went to the hall and put on his coat.

'Just a stroll; or I may look in at the club. You don't understand; a
man feels rather cramped in these surroundings, Edith.'

'I quite understand your feeling.'