“What you say, Miss Norah, is correct—as it always is. You know, Jack, that only this morning you told me that you were going to ask Miss Doris to share your half of the box; it was for that especial purpose you took it.”
“Did you not give me an assurance that you proposed to ask Miss Audrey to go with you?”
“My dear Jack, you informed me as far back as yesterday that you had as good as invited Miss Doris to accompany you, and that she had practically consented.”
“My memory is not at fault, my good fellow. I perfectly well remember that three days ago you remarked to me that you had mentioned the Gaiety Theatre to Miss Audrey; that she had expressed a wish to go there, and that, to all intents and purposes, you had undertaken to take her. After that you will yourself admit that, in common decency, there is nothing more to be said.”
“Come, Jack, I don’t want to chop phrases with you. You know I hate that kind of thing.”
“Not more than I do.”
“Then, if that’s the case, I’ll make a proposition, the perfect fairness of which must commend it to you. Let me have five minutes’ private and uninterrupted conversation with Miss Norah—I am convinced, Miss Norah, that in less time than that I shall succeed in making clear to you a good deal that at present seems dark!—and after that you can have ten minutes’ talk all to yourself.”
“I accept your proposition—with one proviso; that you let me have the first five minutes; then, afterwards, you can have twenty.”
“What kind of a way to treat a friend do you call this, Jack? You persist in taking the words out of my mouth, and adopting them as your own.”
“Basil, I must beg of you that you will not talk nonsense.”