Phil merely looked his astonishment.
"Now, sir, you mayn't think it," says Mr. Ned, "but my word has some weight with Fanny."
"Fanny?" echoed Philip. "What has she to do with it?"
"Why, everything, I fancy. The lady usually has—"
"But Fanny isn't the lady."
"What? Then who the devil is?"
"I don't think 'tis a matter need be talked of now," said Phil.
"But I'd like to know—'gad, it can't be the other sister! Madge—that spitfire! Well, well! Your face speaks, if your tongue won't. Who'd have thought any man would go soft over such a vixen? Well, I can't help you there, my lad!"
"I haven't asked your help," says Phil with a smile.
"Now, it's a pity," says Ned, dolefully, "for I thought by doing you a good turn I might get you to do me another."