In Bond Street he met Lord Billy Tottenham, a fellow Oxonian, who met his death in a mud-hole in Flanders the other year.
Lord Billy, with a boyish, smug, but immovable face adorned with a tortoiseshell-rimmed eyeglass.
"Hello, Bobby!" said Billy.
"Hello, Billy!" said Bobby.
"What's wrong with you?" asked Billy.
"Broke to the world, my dear chap."
"What was the horse?" asked Billy.
"'Twasn't a horse—a girl, mostly."
"Well, you're not the first chap that's been broke by a girl," said Billy. "Walk along a bit—but it might have been worse."
"How so?"