He'd be hanged if he could understand women nowadays.
Not these women, at least.

In high dudgeon he stalked from the room.

In the door he met Brock.
"For two cents," he declared savagely, as if Brock were to blame, "I'd take the next train for Paris." Brock watched him down the hall.

He drew a handful of small coins from his pocket, ruefully looking them over.

"Two cents," he said.