“I thought so. Early engagement, you see—ought never to have stood.”
“If you’d been Huntington you’d probably have had the unreasonable notion that it should.”
“She’s a magnificent girl,” said Lockwood, blowing a great volume of smoke into the air with head elevated and half-shut eyes. “She made those two who were here with her last summer seem like thirty cents beside her. Nice girls, too—fine girls—elegant dressers; I don’t know what the matter was. Neither did they.” He chuckled a little. “They couldn’t believe their own eyes when they saw three of us going daft over a girl they wouldn’t have staked a copper on in a free-for-all with themselves. They took it gamely, I’ll say that for them. Marie won’t have me back.”
“I don’t blame her.”
“Neither do I. Haven’t got to the want-to-be-taken-back stage—sometimes think I never shall. One experience like that spoils a man for the average girl. The truth is, Tony, the most of them—er—overdo the meet-you-half-way act. I want a girl to keep me guessing till the last minute.”
“Tell that to the girl,” advised Anthony.
“I wish I could. Yet there were a good many times when I thought if Rachel Redding would just look my way I shouldn’t take it ill of her. I wonder if she’d have been like that if she hadn’t been engaged to another fellow.”
“Probably.” Anthony got up and stretched himself. He was growing weary of other men’s confidences.
“You’re right she would. She’s built that way. Yet when you get to fancying what she’d be if she just let herself go and show she cared——”
“Look here, my young friend,” said Anthony, “I advise you to go home and go to bed. Sitting here dreaming over Mrs. Alexander Huntington isn’t good for you. What you want to be doing is to forget her. Huntington’s going to get well, and they’re going to live happily ever after, and you fellows out here can look up other girls. Plenty of ’em. Only, for the love of heaven, see if you can avoid all setting your affections on the same girl next time. It’s too rough on your friends!”