"Oh that? That was so long ago that it doesn't matter much now."
"Oh, doesn't it though, it matters a jolly sight more. You said" (there was bitterness in his tone), "you said it couldn't have been me. As if I didn't know that."
"I didn't mean it couldn't have been you, not in that way. I only meant that you'd have—well, you'd have behaved very differently, if it had been you; and so I believe you would."
"You don't know how I'd 'ave behaved."
"I've a pretty good idea, though." She looked straight at him this time, and he grew strangely brave.
"Look here, Flossie," he said solemnly, "you know—as I've just let it out—that I'm most orf'ly gone on you. I don't suppose there's anything I wouldn't do for you except—well, I really don't know what you're driving at, but if it's anything to do with Razors, I'd rather not hear about it, if you don't mind. It isn't fair, really. You see, it's putting me in such a 'orribly delicate position."
"I don't think you're very kind, Sidney. You don't think of me, or what sort of a position you put me in. I'm sure I wouldn't have said a word, only you asked me to tell you all about it; you needn't say you didn't."
"That was when I thought, p'raps, I could help you to patch it up. But if I can't, it's another matter."
"Patch it up? Do you think I'd let you try? I don't believe in patching things up, once they're—broken off."
"I say Flossie, it hasn't come to that?"