“I can,” said Ukridge, emphatically. “I’ve reached the conclusion that there is not room in this world for Ernie Finch and myself, and I’m living in the hope of meeting him one of these nights down in a dark alley.”
“You sneaked his girl,” I pointed out.
“I don’t want his beastly girl,” said Ukridge, with ungallant heat.
“Then you really do want to get out of this thing?”
“Of course I want to get out of it.”
“But, if you feel like that, how on earth did you ever let it happen?”
“I simply couldn’t tell you, old horse,” said Ukridge, frankly. “It’s all a horrid blur. The whole affair was the most ghastly shock to me. It came absolutely out of a blue sky. I had never so much as suspected the possibility of such a thing. All I know is that we found ourselves alone in the drawing-room after Sunday supper, and all of a sudden the room became full of Prices of every description babbling blessings. And there I was!”
“But you must have given them something to go on.”
“I was holding her hand. I admit that.”
“Ah!”