Next day Ralph came round to the Whatelys’ soon after breakfast.
“Well, feeling more peaceful to-day, old friend?”
Ralph looked at Roland in impotent annoyance. As he knew of old, Roland was an impossible person to have a row with. He simply would not fight. He either agreed to everything you said or else brushed away your arguments with a good-natured “All right, old man, all right!” On this occasion, however, he felt that he must make a stand.
“You’re the limit,” he said; “the absolute limit.”
“I don’t know about that, but I think you were last night.”
“Oh, don’t joke about it. You know what I mean. I think it’s pretty rotten for a fellow like you to go about with a shop assistant, but that’s not really the thing. What’s simply beastly is your coming back to April as though nothing had happened. What would she say if she knew?”
Roland refused to acknowledge omniscience. “I don’t know,” he said.
“She wouldn’t be pleased, would she?” Ralph persisted.
“No; well then, there you are; you oughtn’t to do anything you think she mightn’t like.”