“Let’s go and rescue the fair maid,” prompted Hart.
“No, no. If Doris wanted me she would let me know.”
“How? At the top of her voice?”
“You’re far too curious, Wally.”
“Semaphore, of course,” drawled Hart. “When are you going to marry the girl, Jack!”
“As soon as this infernal business has blown over.”
“You haven’t asked her, I gather?”
“No.”
“Tell me when you do, and I’ll hie me to London town, though in torrid June. You’re unbearable in love.”
“The lash of your wit cuts deeply sometimes,” said Grant quietly.