“What have I to do with Shigramitish women? She merely caught my attention for a minute, and I wondered at the attraction that a dowd has for a certain type of man. I expected to see her walk out of her clothes--until I looked at her eyes.” “Hooks and eyes, surely,” drawled Mrs. Mallowe. “Don't be clever, Polly. You make my head ache. And round this hayrick stood a crowd of men--a positive crowd!” “Perhaps they also expected”-- “Polly, don't be Rabelaisian!” Mrs. Mallowe curled herself up comfortably on the sofa, and turned her attention to the sweets. She and Mrs. Hauksbee shared the same house at Simla; and these things befell two seasons after the matter of Otis Yeere, which has been already recorded. Mrs. Hauksbee stepped into the veranda and looked down upon the Mall, her forehead puckered with thought. “Hah!” said Mrs. Hauksbee, shortly. “Indeed!” “What is it?” said Mrs. Mallowe, sleepily. “That dowd and The Dancing Master--to whom I object.” “Why to The Dancing Master? He is a middle-aged gentleman, of reprobate and romantic tendencies, and tries to be a friend of mine.” “Then make up your mind to lose him. Dowds cling by nature, and I should imagine that this animal--how terrible her bonnet looks from above!--is specially clingsome.” “She is welcome to The Dancing Master so far as I am concerned. I never could take an interest in a monotonous liar. The frustrated aim of his life is to persuade people that he is a bachelor.” “0--oh! I think I've met that sort of man before. And isn't he?” “No. He confided that to me a few days ago. Ugh! Some men ought to Be killed.” “What happened then?” “He posed as the horror of horrors--a misunderstood man. Heaven knows the femme incomprise is sad enough and had enough--but the other thing!” “And so fat too! I should have laughed in his face. Men seldom confide in me. How is it they come to you?” “For the sake of impressing me with their careers in the past. Protect me from men with confidences!” “And yet you encourage them?” “What can I do? They talk. I listen, and they vow that I am sympathetic. I know I always profess astonishment even when the plot is--of the most old possible.” “Yes. Men are so unblushingly explicit if they are once allowed to talk, whereas women's confidences are full of reservations and fibs, except”-- “When they go mad and babble of the Unutterabilities after a week's acquaintance. Really, if you come to consider, we know a great deal more of men than of our own sex.” “And the extraordinary thing is that men will never believe it. They say we are trying to hide something.” “They are generally doing that on their own account. Alas! These chocolates pall upon me, and I haven't eaten more than a dozen. I think I shall go to sleep.” “Then you'll get fat dear. If you took more exercise and a more intelligent interest in your neighbors you would--”