"We ought, Gilbert!"
"Let's go and see my play. Perhaps that'll make us feel merry and bright!..."
"No," said Henry. "It wouldn't. It 'ud depress us. We'd keep thinking of Ninian and Roger. I think we ought to get drunk, Gilbert, very and incredibly drunk...."
"I should feel like Mrs. Clutters' husband if I did that," Gilbert answered. "Aren't there any other forms of debauchery? Couldn't we go to a music-hall or a picture-palace or something? Or we might discuss our future!..."
"I'm sick of this boarding house we're in," Henry exclaimed.
"So am I, but I don't feel like setting up house again. I'm certain you'd go and get married the moment we'd settled into a place...."
"I'm not a marrying man, Gilbert," Henry interrupted.
"Well, what are you, Quinny?"
"I don't know!"
They were wandering aimlessly along the streets. They had drifted along Regent Street, and then had drifted into Oxford Street, and were going slowly in the direction of Marble Arch.