And, honest, I'd never seen Mr. Robert when he was feelin' so low.
"Gee!" says I. "You didn't quit at that, did you?"
"Unfortunately no," says he. "Our caveman tactics having failed, I tried the modern style—at least, I thought I was being modern. The usual thing, you know."
"Eh?" says I. "Both knees on the rug and the reg'lar conservatory nook wilt-thou-be-mine lines?"
"I spoke my piece standing," says he, "making it as impassioned and eloquent as I knew how. Miss Hampton continued to be amused."
"Did you get any hint as to what was so funny about all that?" says I.
"It appears," says Mr. Robert, "that impassioned declarations are equally out of date—early-Victorian, to quote Elsa exactly. Anyway, she gave me to understand that while my love-making was somewhat entertaining, it was hopelessly medieval. She very kindly explained that undying affection, tender devotion, and the protection of manly arms were all tommyrot; that she really didn't care to be enshrined queen of anyone's heart or home. She wishes to avoid any step that may hinder the development of her own personality. You—er—get that, I trust, Torchy?"
"Clear as mush," says I. "Was it just her way of handin' you the blue ticket?"
"Not quite," says Mr. Robert. "That is, I'm a little vague as to my exact status myself. I assume, however, that I've been put on probation, as it were, until we become better acquainted."
"And you're standin' for that, Mr. Robert!" says I.