“Well, I hadn’t been ... not really in love. There’s all the difference in the world between.... Well, never mind that. What am I going to do? That’s the point.”
“I don’t know.”
“Thanks,” said young Bingo. “That’s a lot of help.”
* * * * *
Next morning he rang me up on the phone just after I’d got the bacon and eggs into my system—the one moment of the day, in short, when a chappie wishes to muse on life absolutely undisturbed.
“Bertie!”
“Hallo?”
“Things are hotting up.”
“What’s happened now?”
“My uncle has given the little woman’s proofs the once-over and admits her claim. I’ve just been having five snappy minutes with him on the telephone. He says that you and I made a fool of him, and he could hardly speak, he was so shirty. Still, he made it clear all right that my allowance has gone phut again.”