"A trifle. Anyone would love such a pretty woman. But I wouldn't ask her to marry me."
"No, Starth will do that."
"She won't have him," said Frank, snappishly. "He's a bad lot."
"A very sore lot at present," put in Baird, smiling.
"It's his own fault," replied Lancaster. "Why can't he leave me alone. It's not the first time he's quarrelled with me."
"Because he knows you are a rival in the affections of Fairy Fan."
"Rubbish, Dicky! Don't get that bee in your bonnet. Starth can marry her for all I care. I merely admire her, and only came into contact with her when Berry wrote asking if I could write her a couple of songs. I came and saw, and--"
"And she conquered," said Darrel. "Who is Berry? I fancy I've met him before. If he's the same man, he hasn't any morals."
"We'll say principles," remarked Baird. "Berry's a fiery-tempered Tom Thumb, who talks 'American' slang through his nose concerning an interesting past of a superlatively shady description. 'Been a South Sea blackbirding skipper from the looks of him, and I expect he made his money in that way. Ever met him?"
"Los Angeles, now I come to think of it," said Darrel.