“Don’t blame me, old thing. It’s not my fault.”
Bill looked furtive and harassed.
“It makes me feel such a cad. Here am I, feeling that I would give all I’ve got in the world to get out of the darned thing, and all the time the poor girl seems to be getting fonder of me than ever.”
“How do you know?” Archie surveyed his brother-in-law critically. “Perhaps her feelings have changed too. Very possibly she may not like the colour of your hair. I don’t myself. Now if you were to dye yourself crimson—”
“Oh, shut up! Of course a man knows when a girl’s fond of him.”
“By no means, laddie. When you’re my age—”
“I am your age.”
“So you are! I forgot that. Well, now, approaching the matter from another angle, let us suppose, old son, that Miss What’s-Her-Name—the party of the second part—”
“Stop it!” said Bill suddenly. “Here comes Reggie!”
“Eh?”