"That so?" Mr. Waddington muttered. "Wish they'd mind their own business."
"That's too much to expect from folks nowadays," the young lady continued. "Why, there were some saying as you'd come into a fortune and spent all your time in the west-end, some that you'd turned religious, and others that you'd gone a bit dotty. I must say you're looking somehow different, you and Mr. Burton too. It's quite like old times, though, to see you sitting there together. You used to come in after every sale and sit just where you're sitting now and go through the papers. How's the business?"
"Very good," Mr. Waddington admitted. "How have you been getting along, eh?"
The young lady sighed. She rolled her eyes at Mr. Waddington in a manner which was meant to be languishing.
"Very badly indeed," she declared, "thanks to you, you neglectful, ungrateful person! I've heard of fickle men before but I've never met one to come up to one that I could name."
Mr. Waddington moved a little uneasily in his place.
"Been to the theatre lately?" he inquired.
The theatre was apparently a sore point.
"Been to the theatre, indeed!" she repeated. "Why, I refused all the other gentlemen just so as to go with you, and as soon as we got nicely started, why, you never came near again! I've had no chance to go."
Mr. Waddington took out a little book.