“A girl!”
“In pink, with yellow hair,” wailed George Tupper. “What am I to do?”
I pondered the point.
“It’s a weird thing for even Ukridge to have done,” I said, “but I suppose you’ll have to give her dinner.”
“But the place is full of people I know, and this girl’s so—so spectacular.”
I felt for him deeply, but I could see no way out of it.
“You don’t think I could say I had been taken ill?”
“It would hurt Ukridge’s feelings.”
“I should enjoy hurting Ukridge’s feelings, curse him!” said George Tupper, fervently.
“And it would be an awful slam for the girl, whoever she is.”