"Really? How cute!"
"Yes, he says it every morning, a half-hour before breakfast."
"Fancy! How old did you say he was?"
"Just seventeen, but perfectly girl-like and masculine."
She nods her head, bows to an acquaintance in a distant part of the room, and murmurs in musical, sympathetic tones:
"That's an adorable age."
"What, thirteen?"
"Yes. Did you say it was a girl?"
"Yes, his name's Ethel. He's a great help to her mother."
"Little darling."