Furnival shook his head. "I can't make her out. Upon my honor, I can't."
Straker wondered what Furny's honor had to do with it.
"Why is she hanging round like this?"
"Hanging round?"
"Yes. You know what I mean. Why doesn't somebody marry her?" He made a queer sound in his throat, a sound of unspeakable interrogation. "Why haven't you married her yourself?"
Straker was loyal. "You'd better ask her why she hasn't married me."
Furnival brooded. "I've a good mind to."
"I should if I were you," said Straker encouragingly.
Furnival sighed heavily. "Look here," he said, "what's the matter with her? Is she difficult, or what?"
"Frightfully difficult," said Straker, with conviction. His tone implied that Furnival would never understand her, that he hadn't the brain for it.