“You are looking topping,” he told her. “What about the love affair, is it all satisfactorily off? It has been worrying you a little of late.”
“It is not exactly off,” she replied, “but it is more satisfactorily placed. We are going to be real good pals. He is going to keep me company in some of my lonely hours, and I am going to try and help him to get briefs. I am relying on you for the first one, Flip.”
“The dickens you are. My dear girl, why should I put myself out to acquire a brief for a rival?”
“Oh, just because you are you. You know you will love it, Flip! You will get him a brief, and then you will pat yourself on the back and say: ‘I know I’m a lazy dog myself, but I’m a devil of a good chap at getting other fellows work.’”
“So I am”—enjoying her thrust—“and it’s a splendid line, and gives far more satisfaction in the end. If I tried to work I should only make a mess of it, and drive some one nearly crazy, whereas, in putting another chap on to a job I give such a lot of folks pleasure, I feel I am getting square with the Almighty.”
“Then you’ll try, Flip?”
“It is humanly possible, he shall have a brief of his very own within the next month.”
“You are a dear. Sometimes I think you are the most adorable person I know.”
“You don’t think it long enough at a time, Lorry. You are too prone to go off suddenly after false gods measuring six-foot-five-and-a-half inches and with the faces of Apollo Belvederes.”
“Probably it is a merciful precaution on the part of our guardian angels, Flip; and, anyhow, you know you like a little variation yourself in the way of bulk, and sound, practical, indecorous chorus girldom.”