Sam thrust aside his hand. Had it been his neck he might have clutched it eagerly, but he drew the line at shaking hands with Eustace Hignett.
"My heart is broken," he said with dignity.
"That feeling will pass, giving way to one of devout thankfulness. I know! I've been there. After all … Wilhelmina Bennett … what is she? A rag and a bone and a hank of hair?"
"She is nothing of the kind," said Sam, revolted.
"Pardon me," said Eustace firmly, "I speak as an expert. I know her and
I repeat, she is a rag and a bone and a hank of hair!"
"She is the only girl in the world, and owing to your idiotic behaviour
I have lost her."
"You speak of the only girl in the world," said Eustace blithely. "If you want to hear about the only girl in the world, I will tell you. A week ago I was in the Subway in New York…."
"I'm going to bed," said Sam brusquely.
"All right. I'll tell you while you're undressing."
"I don't want to listen."