"Own up what? That I happened to take a friend to the theatre?"
"Oh well, if it was all right, tell us who she was, lad," said the friend.
"She was all right," said Dawes.
Paul was furious. Dawes wiped his golden moustache with his fingers, sneering.
"Strike me—! One o' that sort?" said the mutual friend, "Paul, boy, I'm surprised at you. And do you know her, Baxter?"
"Just a bit, like!"
He winked at the other men.
"Oh well," said Paul, "I'll be going!"
The mutual friend laid a detaining hand on his shoulder.
"Nay," he said, "you don't get off as easy as that, my lad. We've got to have a full account of this business."