"I'm all right," answered Alf in a voice of hopeless dejection.
There was another long silence, once more terminating in a sigh.
"Look 'ere," said Bill, getting up in disgust, "if you feel as bad as all that, for 'eving's sake 'ave a good cry and get it over, an' let's 'ave the old 'ome 'appy once again. What the 'ell's up?"
Alf did not answer this question, except by asking another.
"Bill," he asked with a forced lightness of tone which quite failed to conceal the earnestness it covered. "What did yer think of Eustace's taste in females?"
Bill turned and looked at him with a suddenly comprehending eye. Alf wriggled uneasily under his gaze.
"So that's it, is it?" commented Bill. "Poor old Alf!" He gave a long whistle.
"What'd you think of—of 'er, Bill?"
"Well," was the honest reply, "that kind o' fine lady ain't my style at all. I like a girl as can back-answer yer a bit. But she was a reg'lar daisy for looks."
Alf heaved another tremendous sigh.