There was no barrier at my lips.
"Thank you," she replied. Then with a smile: "Supposing I were to say
that you are looking very handsome?"
"Oh," said I, somewhat disconcerted, "that would be rather
embarrassing."
"I do not doubt it."
"And then it would not be true. The duty we men owe to a beautiful
woman is constantly to keep telling her of it."
"And the duty we women owe to a fine-looking man?" a rogue of a dimple
in her cheeks.
"Is to explicitly believe all he says regarding your beauty," I
answered, evading the question. "A man may tell a woman that she is
beautiful, but a woman may not tell a man that he is fine-looking, that
is, in public."
"The terms are not fair."
"That may be true, but they make the wheels of the social organization
run smoother. For instance, if I met a strange woman and she told me
that I was handsome, I shouldn't be able to speak again the whole
evening. On the other hand, a beautiful woman, after you say that you
are delighted to meet her, expects the very next remark to concern her
good looks."
"Your insight is truly remarkable," she said, the dimple continuing its
elusive manoeuvres.
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