2
"I hate men," said Lola, apparently addressing a sparrow that had perched upon a bush just in front of her.
Beresford smoked on in silence, feeling that the remark required no comment from him.
That morning he had waited for her in the hall, and they had set out together for a walk on the Leas, Beresford conscious of murderous looks from others who had also waited.
"I suppose that was a very rude remark," she said, turning to him with a smile.
"Not at all. When I think of the Thirty-Nine Articles of Masculine Faith at the Imperial I can quite sympathise with you."
"What a good thing the number isn't forty." She looked up at him from beneath her lashes.
"It may be before long," he said imperturbably, "but the Fortieth Article is determined to enjoy the present."
"Why do you say it may be?"
"Vide Aunt Caroline," was the retort. "She would be astonished at your being able to tolerate my company for half an hour."
"Why?"
"Well, Drew and I always seem to get on her nerves. We speak a different language, and in reality live in a different world from hers."
"And yet you are so dissimilar?"
"We are as different from each other as each
