Mr. Dod looked injured. "Oh, well," he said, "if you prefer to talk about something else——"
"But they can't see into a sentimental situation any further than into a board fence," I continued serenely. "My dear Dick, Isabel thinks you're engaged. So does her mamma. So does Mr. Mafferton."
"Who to?" exclaimed Mr. Dod, in ungrammatical amazement.
"I looked at him reproachfully. Don't be such an owl!" I said.
Light streamed in upon Dicky's mind. "To you!" he exclaimed. "Great Scott!"
"Preposterous, isn't it?" I said.
"I should ejaculate! Well, no, I mean—I shouldn't ejaculate, but—oh, you know what I mean——"
"I do," I said. "Don't apologise."
"What in my aunt's wardrobe do they think that for?"
"You left their party and joined ours rather abruptly at Pompeii," I said.