“Why, of course; the prettiest picture I ever—but that goes without saying.”
“It would have gone better without saying,” remarked Dolly. “Considering—”
To have asked “Considering what?” would have been the acme of bad taste.
I merely smiled, and waved my hand again.
“You’re quite serious about it, aren’t you?” said Dolly.
“I should think I was,” said I indignantly. “Not to be serious in such a matter is to waste it utterly.”
“I’ll come to the wedding,” said Dolly.
“There won’t be a wedding,” said I. “There are Reasons.”
“Oh! You’re very unlucky, Mr. Carter.”
“That,” I observed, “is as it may be, Lady Mickleham.”