"Did you mean it? Because, you know, I should like it awfully."
"Thanks, Val, old man. Oh, rather, I meant it."
Young Sir Walter lowered his voice and looked cautiously round—they were in the club smoking-room.
"Because I thought, you know, that you were rather—you know—Adela Ferrars?"
"Nothing in that, only pour passer le temps," Evan assured him with that superb man-of-the-worldliness.
It was a pity that Adela could not hear him. But there was more to follow.
"The truth is," resumed Evan—"and, of course, I rely on your discretion, Val—I thought there might be a—an obstacle."
Young Sir Walter looked knowing.
"When you were good enough to suggest what you did—about your sister—I doubted for a moment how such a thing would be received by—well, at a certain house."