“Sorry, Ollie. Not even with all your good advice.”
“Honestly?”
“Uh-huh.” “Well, look here—better luck next time, anyway. It's all—”
“It's all over, Ollie. I'm getting out of here tomorrow before most of them are up. Special breakfast and everything—called back to town by urgent legal affairs.” He laughs, rather too barkingly for Oliver to like it.
“Oh, Hell!”
“Correct.”
“Well, she's—”
“She's an angel, Ollie. But I had to tell her—about France. That broke it. D'you wonder?”
“Oh, you poor, damn, honorable, simple-minded, blessed, blasted fool! Before you'd really begun?”
Ted hesitates. “Y-yes.”