"By the way, I have decided to call you by your Christian name."
"Oh! Er—yes," I agreed, staggered, but feeling that I could not refuse this proof of goodwill to a young man who had just made me the confidante of so much. "H—How did you know it?"
"Doesn't your little pal call you by it? Mine's Dick, you know."
I nodded, not feeling I could use it just yet. If he'd been as abrupt in his love-making as he was in his making friends, there was some excuse, thought I, for the young woman who kept him waiting for his answer.
Then, with equal brightness, he changed the subject altogether.
"D'you know that I'm having a house-party at the Lodge next week? For the concert—yes. You've seen my wounded pal, haven't you? Then I've got a girl from London and her mother coming down to stay."
"A girl—oh! have you?"
And then I could not help it. The question slipped out, as it were, of its own accord.
"Captain Holiday, is she 'the' girl?"
But the exasperating man wouldn't give me a direct answer.