“It’s a——”
Stephen shook his cousin’s arm.
“Let him prove it, Harry; let him prove it.”
But Harry shrunk from that. He was as thoughtless and unprincipled as the rest of them; but he was not blasé. He was only twenty; and some instincts of chivalry and respect for the beautiful girl whose name was being bandied about so freely made him hesitate.
“He knows better than to agree to that!” sneered George.
“Why don’t you try to be beforehand with him?” suggested Stephen.
“I will, by Jove!” said Harry, stung and excited past all scruples. “We’ll see if my rough overtures may not be more to her taste than your what-do-you-call-it homage. I bet Fire King to a five-pound note I’ll have a kiss from her to-morrow.”
“Willingly, mind?”
“Willingly.”
“Done, then! But how am I to be sure you have won fairly if you come and claim it?”