Then she said: "I sometimes think that you must have had a great deal of practice."
"No," said Mr. Manley firmly. "I have never had occasion to be in love before."
He put her back into the chair from which he had lifted her, sat down facing her, and gazed at her with adoring eyes. He was truly very much in love with her.
They were excellent complements the one of the other. If Mr. Manley had the brains for two—indeed, he had the brains for half a dozen—she had the character for two. Her chin was very unlike the chin of an eagle. She was not, indeed, lacking in brains. Her brow forbade the supposition. But hers was rather the practical intelligence, his the creative. That she had the force of character, on occasion the fierceness, which he lacked, was no small source of her attraction for him.
"And how was the hog this morning?" she said, ready to be soothing.
"The hog" was their pet name for Lord Loudwater.
"Beastly. He's an utterly loathsome fellow," said Mr. Manley with conviction.
"Oh, no; not utterly—at any rate, not if you're independent of him," she protested.
"Does he ever come into contact with any one who is not dependent on him? I believe he shuns them like the pest."
