"Er—yes," said I.
At that, George uttered a terrible cry, snatched up his coat, and before I could stop him, rushed out of the studio. I put my head out of the window. As he dashed hatless out of the front door:
"Where are you going?" I said.
He threw me a black look. Then: "To wire an apology," he said.
I turned to find my lady at my shoulder.
"He's gone to wire you an apology," I said.
"You are wicked," she said. "Poor Mr. Larel. I feel quite—"
I put my head on one side and regarded her. "Nice kid, though," I said.
"I know," she said severely. "But the poor man—"
"She's taken quite a fancy to me," said I.