“Quite so, quite so, but I want to hear about the girl—the father will turn up in due time, and as for the digger, he at least would get a bath.”
“I waited for her loving parent to come home, as it was supposed he wanted to see me.”
“I see; I see: and what did he say when he came?”
“He didn’t say anything.”
“That was very churlish conduct, don’t you think Scarlett?”
“But, you see, he didn’t come.”
“Didn’t come home? Now, look here, Scarlett; now, look here, my good fellow. You’re getting into bad ways; you’re courting temptation. By Jupiter! they’ll be marrying you next. They will, sir; they’ll be marrying you, before you know where you are; marrying you in a church. And if they can’t get you to church, they’ll marry you before the Registrar; by Jupiter! they will.”
“But she’s a pretty girl, remember that.”
“She may be the most monstrous pretty girl, for all I care. But don’t you let her hook you, my boy. Women are all fudge, sir. Girls are mostly dolls dressed in feathers and fine clothes. But I grant you that there’s some dignity in a woman who’s a mother; but by forty she becomes old, and then she must be a plaguey nuisance. No, Scarlett, I never married, thank God. Fancy being at the beck and call of a crotchety old beldame, at my time of life. No, sir; I never knew what it was to be questioned and badgered when I came home at night, no matter if it was two in the morning. I can do as I like, sir: I need not go home at all. I’m a free man. Now, take my advice, Scarlett; be a free man too.”
“But you never could have been in love, Mr. Crewe.”