"Mr. Loftus does not like my hat. Don't you like it, Mr. Orr?"
"I like everything about you, everything, from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet."
"There!" exclaimed Fanny. "That is the way I like to have a man talk."
"It is dreadfully difficult," Loftus threw in.
"You seem to find it so," Fanny threw back.
Sylvia raised a finger. "Mr. Loftus, if you do not stop quarreling with Fanny I will make you come and sit by me."
"If I am to look upon that as a punishment, Miss Waldron," Loftus with negligent gallantry replied, "what would you have me regard as a reward?"
"Arthur! Arthur!" Fanny cried. "Did you hear that? This man is making up to Sylvia."
But Annandale did not seem in the least alarmed. He was looking about for Ferdinand. "Here," he began, when at last the waiter appeared. "You neglect us shamefully. We want some more moselle and more Scotch."
"None for me," said Loftus rising. "I have an appointment."