On the way to the first tee it seemed to Archie that Lucille was distrait and abstracted in her manner; and it occurred to him, not for the first time in his life, what a poor support a clear conscience is in moments of crisis. Dash it all, he didn’t see what else he could have done. Couldn’t leave the poor female staggering about the place with squads of flies wedged in her eyeball. Nevertheless—
“Rotten thing getting a fly in your eye,” he hazarded at length. “Dashed awkward, I mean.”
“Or convenient.”
“Eh?”
“Well, it’s a very good way of dispensing with an introduction.”
“Oh, I say! You don’t mean you think—”
“She’s a horrid woman!”
“Absolutely! Can’t think what people see in her.”
“Well, you seemed to enjoy fussing over her!”
“No, no! Nothing of the kind! She inspired me with absolute what-d’you-call-it—the sort of thing chappies do get inspired with, you know.”