“Who’s the bounder who’s going to have my room after to-night?”
“Mis-ter Roberts!” She affected a high key of indignation. “He isn’t a bounder. You know very well that mother’s awfully particular. She wouldn’t take anyone without he was a perfect gentleman in every way. Now I can’t wait another minute. I should get into an awful row if mother caught me here.”
“What’s the harm? Don’t run away, Elsie. Just tell me this: are you coming to the pictures to-night—for the last evening?”
“Oh, are you going to take me and Geraldine? I don’t suppose Geraldine’ll be able to—she’s ill.”
“Can’t we go without her?”
“Mother wouldn’t let me.”
“Well, look here, Elsie—come without telling anyone. Do, just for the lark. I swear I’ll take the greatest care of you.”
“Oh, how could I? Besides, mother’d want to know where I was.”
“Can’t you say you’re going somewhere with that eternal friend of yours—that Irene Tidmarsh girl, or whatever her name is?”
“I’ll thank you to remember you’re speaking of a friend of mine, Mr. Roberts. And the idea of suggesting I should do such a thing as deceive my mother! Why, I’m surprised at you!”