“She’s the one with black hair.”
“Not fur out,” remarked George, complacently. “Go on, sir.” He continued to write laboriously.
“Tell her that some one from town wishes to see her on important business, and will she be at the station here at half-past eight this evening.”
“But they’ve got their party on. ’Sides which—”
“Nothing could be better.”
“’Sides which there’s no train about that time.”
“I don’t want her to go by train,” shouted the other in an irritable way. “I only want to have a talk.”
“Excuse me asking, sir, but is it love?”
“You’ve guessed it!”
“A wonderful thing, once it catches you. I never been mixed up in it to any considerable extent, but I keep my eyes open, and I noticed that once parties get affected by it, why there’s no telling.”