"Been looking at the water?" inquired Lord Dreever. "I have. I often do. Don't you think it sort of makes a chap feel—oh, you know. Sort of—I don't know how to put it."
"Mushy?" said Jimmy.
"I was going to say poetical. Suppose there's a girl—"
He paused, and looked down at the water. Jimmy was sympathetic with this mood of contemplation, for in his case, too, there was a girl.
"I saw my party off in a taxi," continued Lord Dreever, "and came down here for a smoke; only, I hadn't a match. Have you—?"
Jimmy handed over his match-box. Lord Dreever lighted a cigar, and fixed his gaze once more on the river.
"Ripping it looks," he said.
Jimmy nodded.
"Funny thing," said Lord Dreever. "In the daytime, the water here looks all muddy and beastly. Damn' depressing, I call it. But at night—" He paused. "I say," he went on after a moment, "Did you see the girl I was with at the Savoy?"
"Yes," said Jimmy.