You simply don't appeal to me.

Perhaps I know you too well.

What does it matter!" He sighed and examined a sauce critically.

They were lunching at Prince's alone, at a small table near the wall.
"Your taste," he remarked a little spitefully, "would be considered a trifle strange.

Souspennier carries his years well, but he must be an old man." She sipped her wine thoughtfully.
"Old or young," she said, "he is a man, and all my life I have loved men,--strong men.