It was Mrs.Baxter who thought of the correct reply.
"_Were_ there any points ?" she asked.
Wilsey shook his finger.
"Ah, don't be cruel!" he said, and held out his hand to say good night; but Lanley was smoking, with his head tilted up and his eyes on the ceiling.

What he was thinking was, "It isn't good for an old man to get as angry as I am." "Good night, Lanley; a delightful evening." Mr.Lanley's chin came down.
"Oh, good night, Wilsey; glad you found it so." When he was gone, Mrs.Baxter observed that he was a most agreeable companion.
"So witty, so amiable, and, for a leader at the bar, he has an extraordinarily light touch." Mr.Lanley had resumed his position on the hearth-rug and his contemplation of the ceiling.
"Wilsey's not a leader at the bar," he said, with open crossness.
He showed no disposition to sit and chat over the events of the evening..