"Waiting for somebody, Lady Alicia?" he asked, negligently; and
his easy burlesque of her name was like the familiarity of the
rest of him. He was one of those full-bodied, grossly handsome
men who are powerful and active, but never submit themselves to
the rigour of becoming athletes, though they shoot and fish from
expensive camps. Gloss is the most shining outward mark of the
type. Nowadays these men no longer use brilliantine on their
moustaches, but they have gloss bought from manicure-girls, from
masseurs, and from automobile-makers; and their eyes, usually
large, are glossy. None of this is allowed to interfere with
business; these are "good business men," and often make large
fortunes. They are men of imagination about two things--women
and money, and, combining their imaginings about both, usually
make a wise first marriage. Later, however, they are apt to
imagine too much about some little woman without whom life seems
duller than need be. They run away, leaving the first wife well
enough dowered. They are never intentionally unkind to women,
and in the end they usually make the mistake of thinking they
have had their money's worth of life. Here was Mr. Harvey
Malone, a young specimen in an earlier stage of development,
trying to marry Henrietta Lamb, and now sauntering over to speak
to Alice, as a time-killer before his next dance with Henrietta.

Alice made no response to his question, and he dropped lazily
into the vacant chair, from which she sharply withdrew her hand.
"I might as well use his chair till he comes, don't you think?
You don't MIND, do you, old girl?"

"Oh, no," Alice said. "It doesn't matter one way or the other.
Please don't call me that."