"I mean—her voice. If that girl had a chance at home at the Gaiety—or the halls—she'd become the craze; and she can dance a bit, too——"
"I knew the other Miss Chandos at home," said Captain Haig—slowly—knocking the ash off his cigarette in a preoccupied fashion. "She was the beauty of Homburg."
"Oh, well, I don't admire her one little bit. A beauty at home is not a beauty here, and vice versâ; I grant you she has a fine pair of unhappy, dark eyes, but give me her sister. I like a girl with a spice of the devil——"
"Cannot say that I do! How are you getting along, Jimmy?"
"Oh, all right. The pater thought he was sending me to penal servitude, but it's rather jolly. They are not a bad lot—these Muffineers—awfully sporting, but it's a rotten regiment. However, the duty is easy."
"How do you kill time?"
"Oh, there's polo, and squash rackets, some fair shooting—duck and snipe, partridge; quite a lot of small game——"
"And no other game?—eh, Jimmy? Sport was never in your line. Piccadilly, Hurlingham, the theatres and halls, used to be your orbit."
"Oh, I put in my days all right, though the climate undermines my moral character, and I eat enormously, and sleep many hours. When the hot weather comes, I'll trek for the hills!"
"Ah—I hope you won't get into mischief there. Had your father consulted me, I should have told him he was turning you out of the frying-pan into the fire!"