Before going home he called at the studio of a friend, a member of the Barbizon Club, and without taking him entirely into his confidence, enlisted his aid in investigating the actions and habits of the men on Hassell's list. It may be said here, that nothing came of this.
Evan and Charley met for the evening meal. The irrepressible Charley was still singing about the red-haired girl. In spite of his boasts it appeared that his advances had consistently been turned down. Evan took a little comfort from this. Sullenness was unknown to the gay Charley and he was not a whit less optimistic because of his set-backs.
"You don't want a girl to be too come-on-ish," he said. "A highty-tighty manner adds zest to the game. They don't expect to be taken seriously when they turn you down, bless your heart, no. Why, if I let that girl drop now, she'd despise me for my faintheartedness. Sure, and be as disappointed as anything!"
Evan was not in much of a humour to laugh at him. Indeed he foresaw that an impossible situation would presently develop between Charley and him unless he said something. With an elaborately casual manner he began at last:
"I say, Charl, you and I have always played fair with each other."
"Well I should rather fahncy, as Lord Percy said. What's on your chest, boy? Unload! Unload!"
"It's only fair to tell you that I have become acquainted with the young lady in question."
Charley stared. "The Deuce you say! You, the scorner of the sex! Since when?"
"Two nights ago."
"And you never said a word about it. You let me shoot off my mouth all this time and never——"