‘Why, Jack,’ he said, ‘what’s the matter? You look queer, somehow.’
‘Dick, are you—are you sure?’ I asked.
‘That you look queer?’
‘No—that you have fallen in love with Margery?’
‘Sure? You’ll be sure enough when you do the same. There’s no mistake about it, I can tell you. Why, Margery is the whole point of the pentathlons now.’
‘She has been so to me for the last week,’ said I.
Dick said nothing for a minute. Then, below his breath, ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘That you and I are in the same boat,’ I said.
‘How long have you known this?’ he asked.
‘A week yesterday.’