"I knew it! Trust your Uncle Harry." Kellogg waited a time for further particulars, but Duncan seemed stuck; his transports of the few minutes just gone were sensibly abated; and the sidelong look he gave Kellogg was both uneasy and rueful—apprehensive, indeed. So Kellogg had to pump for news. "And you've made a strong play for the fond affections of Lockwood's daughter?"
"Certainly not!"
"Not—?"
"You forget your rules." Nat grinned, whimsical. "I let her to make a play for me."
"Of course. My mistake.... But how has it worked?"
"Oh! immense." Duncan's tone, however, was wholly destitute of enthusiasm. He stuck his hands in his trousers' pockets and half turned away from his friend, looking out of the window.
Kellogg smiled secretly. "You mean you've won her already?"
"Oh, there's nothing to it," said Duncan, shaking his head and meaning just the exact opposite of what his words conveyed, for of such is our modern slang.
"Then you're engaged?" Kellogg had understood perfectly, you see.
"No, not yet. I've got two months left—almost."