“Do you see me doing that? I’m the kind of bloke that would like a woman to conquer him. If it comes to that, there are two kinds of men.”
He had told me so much that I felt it right to give him a warning.
“Since you say she’s a friend of Elsie Coningsby’s, I mayn’t be able to help finding out who she is.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t mind that—not with you. As a matter of fact, I should like to introduce you to her one of these days.”
I broke in more hastily than I intended, “No, no; don’t do that—for God’s sake!”
He swung round in amazement. “Why—why, what’s the matter?”
I tried to recover myself. “Oh, nothing! Only, you must see for yourself that—that after what I’ve been through I’m not—not a lady’s man.”
“Oh, get out!” was his only observation.
We lapsed into one of our long silences, which was broken when we turned back toward town.
“Look here, Frank,” he said, suddenly, “you can’t go on living down there in Vandiver Street. Besides, the club will be needing your bed for some one else.”