You attach inflated importance to their unimportant surface qualities--physical appearance, pleasant voice and manner--and to their amiable little hypocrisies of apparent sweetness and generosity and friendliness. You do not see the real person--the human being. You, being by training a hypocrite and a believer in hypocrisies, scorn human beings. Now I prefer them to the sort of people with whom you and your false literature populate the world. In making you acquainted with Edna--and the others in my story--I have not introduced you to bad people, monsters, but to real beings of usual types, probably on the whole superior to your smug self in all the good qualities. Had you seen Edna in the Armitage house that evening you would have thought her as incapable of calculation and snobbishness as--well, as any of the others in that company whose whole lives were made up of calculation and snobbishness. She--and they--looked so refined and elevated. She--and they--talked so high-mindedly. I, who knew almost nothing at that time except business, was listener rather than talker; and you may be sure such a man as I, having such ignorance as mine to cover up, had in years of practice become somewhat adept in that saving art for the intelligent ignorant. But Edna---- She, the most expert of smatterers, fairly shone. With her beauty and vivacity, her eloquent eyes and dazzling smile, and exquisite bare shoulders, to aid her, she created an impression of brilliancy. “You had a good time?” said I, when we were in the motor for the home journey. “I never had as good a time in my life,” she exclaimed, her voice tremulous with ecstasy. “Did I look well?” “Never so well,” said I. “And you made a hit.” “I was careful to cultivate the women,” said she. “I’ve got to get the women.” “You’ve got them,” I declared sincerely. “You’re sure I didn’t make some of them jealous? Did you see any signs?” “They liked you,” said I. “I had to play my cards well,” pursued she. “It was a difficult position. I was far and away the best looking woman there, with the possible exception of Mrs. Armitage. Did you hear her call me Edna?” “You and Mrs. Armitage look well together. You are of about the same figure, and the contrast of coloring is very good.” “That’s why we took to each other so quickly. Each of us sets off the other.” “How did you like Armitage?” I asked. “Oh, well enough,” said she indifferently. “I hardly noticed him--or the other men. I had my game to play. The men don’t count in the social game. It’s the women. I shall be nervous until I find out whether I really got them. They are such cats!--so mean and sly and jealous. I _detest_ women!” “I prefer men, myself,” said I. “Men!” She laughed scornfully. “I think men are intolerable--American men. They say foreigners are better. But American men--they know nothing but dull business or politics. They have no breadth--no idealism. The women are far superior to the men.”