He had given me my cue. I put my hand on his shoulder and spoke sorrowfully.
"Mortimer, my boy, I fear I have bad news for you."
"Slow; back—keep the head—— What's that? Bad news?"
"About Betty."
"About Betty? What about her? Don't sway the body—keep the eye on the——"
"Prepare yourself for a shock, my boy. Yesterday afternoon Betty called to see me. When she had gone I found that she had stolen my silver matchbox."
"Stolen your matchbox?"
"Stolen my matchbox."
"Oh, well, I dare say there were faults on both sides," said Mortimer. "Tell me if I sway my body this time."
"You don't grasp what I have said! Do you realize that Betty, the girl you are going to marry, is a kleptomaniac?"