"Well, I haven't been seeing much of you lately," Mr. Prohack edged forward into the fringes of intimacy when three glasses of beer and three slices of Derby Round had been unequally divided between them, "have I?"
"No, sir."
Mr. Prohack had in truth been seeing Carthew almost daily; but on this occasion he used the word "see" in a special sense.
"That boy of yours getting on all right?"
"Pretty fair, considering he's got no mother, if you understand what I mean, sir," replied Carthew, pushing back his chair, stretching out his legs, and picking his teeth with a fork.
"Ah! yes!" said Mr. Prohack commiseratingly. "Very awkward situation for you, that is."
"It isn't awkward for me, sir. It's my boy it's awkward for. I'm as right as rain."
"No chance of the lady coming back, I suppose?"
"Well, she'd better not try," said Carthew grimly.
"But does this mean you've done with the sex, at your age?" cried Mr. Prohack.