Jeyes.
Explanation——?
Lily.
Of the sort of terms we’ve been on, you and I, He—he must be—rather puzzled— turning away to the table. Oh, it’s due to you as well as to me!
Jeyes.
Dully. Just as you please. With a hard laugh. Ho, ho! Yes, perhaps it is due to me that he should learn a little more about me than he’s been able to gather from personal observation—and from your eloquent but summary description. Under his breath, screwing up his cap. Idler—waster—loafer——!
Lily.
Penitently. Nicko!
Jeyes.
To Farncombe, quietly. Oh, it’s a true bill, Farncombe. And yet, a very few years back—she won’t dispute it—I was one of the smartest chaps going, good at my job, with prospects as rosy as any man’s in my regiment. There wasn’t a cloud the size of your hand, apparently, in my particular bit of sky at the time I speak of; not a speck! Then I met this young lady, and— pointing to the box-ottoman well, since we’re in for it——!