Fred (digging him in the ribs). Ah! Sly dog!
Sel. Not at all! She got quite confidential and told me her history—how her father had been a curate and got killed at the battle of—no, that was her brother—at any rate, the time passed most pleasantly, when all of a sudden she asked me my name; I stammered a little—then——(Gesture.)
Fred. You didn’t give it?
Sel. No, I gave yours!
Fred (starting up indignantly). What! Give my name to a girl you picked up promiscuously——(Selwyn forces him back into his seat.)
Sel. She was a perfect lady, dear boy. Besides, what was the use of you saving my life if I could not use your name?
Fred (pettishly). Well? Go on.
Sel. Then a faintness came over her—she wasn’t used to late hours!
Fred. Of course not! They never are!
Sel. (talking glibly). I rushed out to fetch a doctor, missed my footing on the top step, and fell headlong amongst a group of gentlemen on the pavement. “Drunken booby,” said one of them, giving me a push that sent me reeling. Off went my hat into the gutter, I went after it, and at last covered with indignation and mud, I flew at the fellow and knocked his hat off, too!