"!" exclaimed Miss Nelly Eaton, suddenly, with her quivering nostril.
"?" I asked with my right eyebrow, rousing myself from a fit of abstraction.
She pointed at a young man who had just strolled past our seats in the Row without noticing her. He was dressed in the height of fashion, and was accompanied by a lady in very smart attire.
"..." explained Nelly, with her mouth tightly shut.
"Taught him to smoke."
I looked at her, and gathered by a swift process of intuition that she had made that boy, and taught him to drink and smoke—of course, in moderation; had got his hair cut, and had rescued him from an adventuress. From her he had learnt not to go to Monday Pops, nor to carry things about in brown paper—in fact, he owed everything to her.... And now——!
"§" I visibly commented, not knowing for the moment how else to express myself. In fact I was getting just a trifle out of my depth. However, I gazed again at her.... Yes, she had deeply eloquent blue eyes, fringed with dark eyelashes, that voiced forth every emotion! Stay, I am afraid that in my admiration my speechless remarks had wandered from the topic of our mute discussion.
"†" interjected her pitying but impatient glance, telling me that my devotion was useless.
I looked very miserable. It is generally understood that I am the most miserable of men since Miss Eaton's engagement to an American millionaire.