There was always space in the smallest drawing-room for Paul's person, vast though the latter was.

There was--fond mothers conveyed it to him subtly after supper and champagne--an aching void in more than one maiden heart which was his exact fit.
But Paul was at once too simple and too clever for matron and maid alike.

Too simple, because he failed to understand the inner meaning of many pleasant things that the guileless fair one said to him.

Too clever, because he met the subtle matron with the only arm she feared, a perfect honesty.

And when at last he obtained his answer from the coy and hesitating Etta, there was no gossip in London who could put forward a just cause or impediment.
Etta gave him the answer one evening at the house of a mutual friend, where a multitude of guests had assembled ostensibly to hear certain celebrated singers, apparently to whisper recriminations on their entertainer's champagne.