“Come, come!” said Mr. Maturin. “It is us whom you insult with a suspicion so disagreeable. My friend and I are not of the sort to commit ourselves to so low a process as that which is called, I believe, ‘picking up.’”
“We have, as a matter of fact, friends of our own,” said Mr. Trevor haughtily.
“Speaking generally,” said Mr. Maturin, “women like us. Time over again I have had to sacrifice my friendship with a man in order to retain his wife’s respect.”
“Ah, you are a man of honour!” sobbed the young lady.
“We are two men of honour,” said Mr. Trevor.
“And far,” said Mr. Maturin warmly, “from intending you any mischief, we merely thought, on hearing you weeping——”
“You heard me, sir!”
“From Conduit Street,” said Mr. Trevor severely, whereupon Mr. Maturin lifted up his voice and sang:
“From Conduit Street, from Conduit Street,
The street of ties and tailors:
From Conduit Street, from Conduit Street,
A shocking street for trousers——”
“Oh!” sobbed the young lady. “Is this chivalry?”