“This is the lovers’ bower,” observed Agnes, sitting down on the bench. Rickie stood by her till the chair arrived.
“Are you smoking before lunch?” asked Mr. Dawes.
“No, thank you. I hardly ever smoke.”
“No vices. Aren’t you at Cambridge now?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your college?”
Rickie told him.
“Do you know Carruthers?”
“Rather!”
“I mean A. P. Carruthers, who got his socker blue.”