"Won't Mr.Longdon be struck with little Aggie and won't he find it interesting to talk about all that sort of thing with the Duchess ?" Vanderbank came back laughing, but Mr.Longdon anticipated his reply.
"What sort of thing do you mean ?" "Oh," said Mrs.Brook, "the whole question, don't you know?
of bringing girls forward or not.

The question of--well, what do you call it ?--their exposure.

It's THE question, it appears--the question--of the future; it's awfully interesting and the Duchess at any rate is great on it.
Nanda of course is exposed," Mrs.Brook pursued--"fearfully." "And what on earth is she exposed to ?" Mr.Cashmore gaily demanded.
"She's exposed to YOU, it would seem, my dear fellow!" Vanderbank spoke with a certain discernible impatience not so much of the fact he mentioned as of the turn of their talk.
It might have been in almost compassionate deprecation of this weak note that Mrs.Brookenham looked at him.

Her own reply to Mr.Cashmere's question, however, was uttered at Mr.Longdon.

"She's exposed--it's much worse--to ME.