“I agree,” said Miss Willow. “But for me, you’d ’ve taken Hill Street. Now I’ve shown you something better you’re all over that. On Monday——”
“You admit it’s better?”
“Not at all. We’ve got to make up our minds between the three. If we had those doors gilded—— Where are you going?”
“I’m going to some place where I can burst,” said Hubert wildly. “I don’t want to do it here. I’ve no quarrel with your parents.”
“Have you a quarrel with me?”
“I soon shall have,” said Challenger, wiping his brow. “It’s eighty-eight in the shade, I’ve walked about sixteen miles over bare boards, and now I’m expected to sit still and watch you tear everything up out of sheer, wanton, blasphemous caprice. It’s enough to induce a blood-clot.”
“Of course,” said Julia, “you’re making me simply hate South Street. That’s my nature, you know. I’m really too easy-going. Treat me nicely, and I’ll eat right out of your hand from morning to night. But if you try and ram something down my throat, it just revolts me.”
“First the truth,” said her squire, “and then the fiction. If you were easy-going, we shouldn’t have visited over half a hundred private residences in six days. Unless I was easy-going and a full-marks fool, I shouldn’t have gone with you. As for——”
“When I said ‘easy-going,’ ” said Julia, “I did not mean ‘indolent’ or ‘labour-shy.’ ”
“And when I called you ‘capricious,’ ” retorted Challenger, “I meant ‘capricious’ with a well-known adverb in front.” Two red spots appeared in Miss Willow’s cheeks. Hubert proceeded vigorously, “For Heaven’s sake, Julia, pull up your socks. By noon on Monday I’ll bet that flat has gone. The next fool that sees it won’t wait. And while we’re sweating up strange staircases, wondering whether we should be wise to have the Sloane Street doors nickel-plated or the bathrooms at Hill Street filled in, the last word in habitations will be signed over. Then I suppose I shall get it for being dilatory.”