"You never have, Jimmy!"
"No, I'm the most dreadful waster," he admitted. "I've just been reading a penny pamphlet—by one of the labour members, and upon my word, it made me squirm like one o'clock. Did you want to see Sybil about anything of cosmic importance?" Jimmy asked.
"Oh dear, no," said Carrissima, as they crossed the park. "Only to ask her to call on a girl she met when we were staying at Crowborough some years ago."
"What's she like—pretty, by any chance?"
"Very pretty," answered Carrissima.
"Then I'm your man. I can go instead if you give me the address, and there's no time like the present."
"Jimmy, you must try not to be ridiculous," said Carrissima. "For some reason you can't have seen her during the few days you stayed with us."
"What is her name?"
"Bridget Rosser. Her father was a novelist——"
"Oh!" cried Jimmy, "you mean David Rosser. I remember that the colonel introduced me; besides, I happened to run up against him again a few months later. A man who never got his due. David Rosser had a style, you know: a little precious, perhaps, if that's a drawback. So you know his daughter! I will see that Sybil goes to see Miss Rosser. Then," said Jimmy, "I shall have a look in."