"In the meantime you might go on telling me about the man who fished you out of the smash.
Was he young?
And good-looking?
Perhaps he is destined to be your fate." "He was rather over thirty, I should think.

And good-looking--quite.

But he 'hates my type of woman,' you'll be interested to know.

So that you can put your high hopes back on the top shelf again." "Not at all," declared Gillian briskly.

"There's nothing like beginning with a little aversion." Magda smiled reminiscently.
"If you'd been present at our interview, you'd realise that 'a little aversion' is a cloying euphemism for the feeling exhibited by my late preserver." "What was he like, then ?" "At first, because I wouldn't take the sal volatile--you know how I detest the stuff!--and sit still where he'd put me like a good little girl, he ordered me about as though I were a child of six.