Drawing myself up to what there is of my full height, I smothered an inclination to giggle foolishly, and answered with starchy dignity, “Since you must know, I’m going out to lunch with Still Waters.”
“Oh, my dear, give that old joke a rest,” urged the most frequent user of “the old joke,” Miss Smith, flushing anew with interest, “and tell us who HE is! This is something quite new, Miss Trant, isn’t it? Doesn’t she look conscious, girls? Didn’t I know that hat meant something? How exciting! I’m so glad, dear; but, do tell us! Not his name, of course——”
For in the code of these girls, it’s not fair to ask for names.
“—but just his Christian name!”
“William,” I admitted, smiling as “coyly” as I could.
“William! Sounds a bit—stand-offish,” objected Miss Holt. “D’you call him ‘Billy,’ by any chance?”
“Never,” I said solemnly, “not by any chance.”
“Of course not. ‘Billy’s’ no class,” said Miss Robinson. “‘William? Ahem! William!’” in a pompous bass voice. “Dark or fair, Miss Trant?”
“Fair.”