"Got to live with him?"
"Yes; all my life," she answered. "I suppose you hadn't thought of that?"
It was not the sort of thing which Caylesham was in the habit of thinking about, but he tried to follow her view.
"Yes, of course. It would be better to be friends. But you shouldn't let him get on stilts. It's absurd, after what he's done. I mean—I mean he's done a much queerer thing than you have."
"Poor old John! How could he help it?"
He glanced at her sharply and was about to speak, when she cried, "Why, where are we? I didn't notice where we were going."
"We're just outside my rooms. Come in for a bit."
"No, I can't come in. I'm late now, and—and—really I'm ashamed to tell even you. Well, I'm always questioned where I've been. I have to give an account of every place. I have to stand with my hands behind me and give an account of all my movements, Frank."
He whistled gently and compassionately.
"Like a schoolgirl!"