Barlow.
[With unction.] I suppose one has to pay for being the most popular diner-out of one’s time.
Dickie.
[Looking at him sharply.] Is it on Mrs. Fergusson that you’ve made something of an impression?
Barlow.
[With great self-satisfaction.] My dear fellow, I am the last man to give a woman away.
Dickie.
Ah!
Barlow.
Between ourselves, Dickie, do you think Mrs. Fergusson would find it peculiar if I asked her to lunch with me tête-à-tête at the Carlton?