Stuart (laughing). I thought that would get rid of them. Well, have you shown Miss Wortley that you can still be occasionally jolly?
Fred (gloomily). I haven’t had the chance. She must be in her room, for I’ve looked everywhere else for her. Not that it’s much loss. I know I should not have been in the mood to please her.
Stuart. That’s because you don’t try hard enough.
Fred (bitterly). Hear the bachelor talk of making love!
Stuart. You think me ignorant?
Fred. Rather,—judging from the results.
Stuart (resting hand on Fred’s shoulder). Fred, I’m not the kind of a man who lets the world know what he’s thinking about. With all due respect to a young fellow who is not far distant, it doesn’t pay to show one’s feelings too much. But I’m going to tell you my bit of romance as an object-lesson. Two months ago I met the most charming woman in the world, and could no more help falling in love—
Fred (looking up in surprise). What! The ideal bachelor in love?
Stuart. I don’t see why two and forty should be debarred from that universal sensation, any more than four and twenty.
Fred. Oh, of course not,—only, to make an Irish bull, we had all grown to think you as wedded to celibacy.