Frayne.
My dear Harry, it is perfectly proper, now that you are affianced to Miss Eden, and have reformed all that sort of thing—it is perfectly proper that you should no longer observe pretty women too narrowly.
Quex.
Obviously.
Frayne.
But do bear in mind that your old friend is not so pledged. Recollect that I have been stuck for the last eight years, with intervals of leave, on the West Coast of Africa, nursing malaria—
Quex
[Severely.] Only malaria?
[Mournfully.] There is nothing else to nurse, dear Harry, on the West Coast of Africa. [Glancing at Sophy.] Yes, by gad, that gal is alluring!