"There's something else I want to ask you," she said. "Will you kindly inform me what has become of my—ahem!—young man?"
"Who?" said Hughie. "Oh, that chap? He is gone."
"Gone? Where?"
"London, I should think."
"Why?"
"In the first place, because I told him about your—I mean—I wouldn't advise you to ask me, Joey. You see—I should hate—"
"You would hate," said Miss Gaymer, coming to his rescue, "to say 'I told you so!' I know, Hughie. It's like you, and I love you for it."
Hughie winced. These colloquial terms of endearment are sometimes rather tantalising. Still, he must not mind that. The girl, too, had had her disappointment, and was bearing herself bravely. At least—
"Joey," he said suddenly, "did you really care for that bloke?"
The lady on the table stiffened suddenly.