'I can't think why you like her,' Pinnie remarked, as if she had spent on the subject treasures of impartiality.
'It's jolly to hear one woman on the subject of another,' Hyacinth said. 'You're kind and good, and yet you're ready———' He gave a philosophic sigh.
'Well, what am I ready to do? I'm not ready to see you gobbled up before my eyes!'
'You needn't be afraid; she won't drag me to the altar.'
'And pray, doesn't she think you good enough—for one of the beautiful Hennings?'
'You don't understand, my poor Pinnie,' said Hyacinth, wearily. 'I sometimes think there isn't a single thing in life that you understand. One of these days she'll marry an alderman.'
'An alderman—that creature?'
'An alderman, or a banker, or a bishop, or some one of that kind. She doesn't want to end her career to-day; she wants to begin it.'
'Well, I wish she would take you later!' the dressmaker exclaimed.
Hyacinth said nothing for a moment; then he broke out: 'What are you afraid of? Look here, we had better clear this up, once for all. Are you afraid of my marrying a girl out of a shop?'
'Oh, you wouldn't, would you?' cried Pinnie, with a kind of conciliatory eagerness. 'That's the way I like to hear you talk!'
'Do you think I would marry any one who would marry me?' Hyacinth went on. 'The kind of girl who would look at me is the kind of girl I wouldn't look at.' He
