“Wait!” said Sam. “While we are on the subject of Aunt Ysobel, I wonder if you have seen her ruling this week in the case of Romeo (Middlesbrough)?”
“I haven’t read this week’s number.”
“Ah! Well, the gist of what she says—I quote from memory—is that there is nothing wrong in a young man taking a girl to the theatre, provided that it is a matinée performance. On the contrary, the girl will consider it a pretty and delicate attention. Now to-morrow will be Saturday, and I have in my possession two seats for the Winter Garden. Will you come?”
“Does Aunt Ysobel say what the significance is if the girl accepts?”
“It implies that she is beginning to return—slightly, it may be, but nevertheless perceptibly—the gentleman’s esteem.”
“I see. Rather serious. I must think this over.”
“Certainly. And now, if I may suggest it, you really ought to be going in and changing your dress. You are very wet.”
“So I am. You seem to know everything—like Aunt Ysobel.”
“There is a resemblance, perhaps,” said Sam.
Hash Todhunter met Sam as he re-entered Mon Repos.