“Oh, no,” said Michael. “I’m beastly untidy.”
He would condescend to Drake for the sake of his love, but he did not think that love demanded the sacrifice of condescending to a possibly more expansive acquaintance with Drake’s family.
“So you’ve met the fair Lily,” Drake said, as they strolled along. “Pretty smart, what, my boy?”
“I’m going to tea with them to-morrow,” Michael informed him.
“Mrs. Haden’s a bit thick,” said Drake confidentially. “And Doris is of a very coming-on disposition.”
Michael thought of Alan and sighed; then he thought of himself listening to this and he was humiliated.
“But Lily is a bit stand-offish,” said Drake. “Of course I never could stand very fair girls, myself. I say, talking of girls, there’s a girl in Sherringham Road, well—she’s an actress’s French maid, as a matter of fact, but, my gad, if you like cayenne, you ought to come along with me, and I’ll introduce you. She’ll be alone now. Are you on?”
“Oh, thanks very much,” said Michael. “But I must get back. Good-night, Drake.”
“Well, you’re a nice chap to ask a fellow to come out. Come on, don’t be an ass. Her name’s Marie.”
“I don’t care if her name’s Marie or Mabel or what it is,” Michael declared in exasperation. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go home. Thanks for coming out.”