"Ah, you don't know how it takes you, Grafton. You wait till your time comes. That girl could have done anything with me, as long as it kept on. She came to a ball we had that night, and I'd picked up a bit then. I'd made up my mind that if I'd done her a good turn I'd get something for it."
"Ah, you want to know too much. But I don't mind telling you that I danced with her four times, and she chucked over a fellow in his third year at Oxford for me."
"Was that all you got?"
"No, it wasn't. But I shan't tell you any more. It wouldn't be fair to the girl. It's all come to an end now, but I'm not going to give her away."
"Do I know her?"
"I can't tell you that either. You might spot who it was, and that wouldn't be quite fair to her. Fact of the matter is I rather fancy I left off before she did. That's the sort of thing girls don't like having known."
"Why did you leave off?"
"Oh, I don't know. She promised to write to me when I went back to Eton,—there, I've let that out—and she didn't do it for I don't know how long. I was rather sick about it, and when she did write I answered her rather coldly. I thought she'd write again and want to know what the matter was. But she didn't. That cooled me off, I suppose, and when I came back this time—well, I found there were other girls I liked better."
"Oh then you've seen her; so she must live about here. Is it Maggie Williams? I thought she was rather a pretty kid when she was at your house the other day."