"Oh, it appears that Lotty Carr, that stuck-up little minx who is jealous of her and everybody else, heard something about this business and asked Walkden, who, to save himself, told a lot of lies. Little Carr then proceeded to make mischief by going first to Wilson and then to Marjorie's mother. Wilson, of course, I was able to square, but the mother was an invalid and the affair so upset her that it ended in her death. Marjorie at once left the stage, forfeiting her salary. I was, of course, awfully sorry and sent her half my winnings, which she returned. Truth then took it up and added to the fuss."
"What's she doing now?"
"Dressmaking or something of that sort. And, poor devil, I believe she has two or three kids to support, brothers and sisters."
"Ah, well! I suppose she'll pick up with Sir Charles, now? He's got plenty of the needful."
"Fool if she doesn't," replied this elegant young gentleman, flippantly. Extremes meet. The naked savage has a fairly low estimate of the value of his womankind, but it is many degrees higher than that of this product of a highly-cultured civilization.
Tommy's curiosity was roused and he was anxious to draw more particulars of his peculiar gift from his friend, so he continued his catechism.
"I say, Wyck! I suppose if you wanted a girl to get properly struck on you, you could do it. Eh?"
"Rather, Tommy, I only want a girl to be in my company three or four times and I can mould her so that she will break her heart and pine away, if I leave her."
"Nonsense. But you don't go so far as that?"
"No, but I may do so for an experiment."