The other assuring him that it was, the Major paused in his career, and gripping the brim with both hands, deliberately tilted it over the right eye again.
"You were saying—" said Halibut, regarding this manoeuvre with secret disapproval.
"Yes," murmured the Major, "I was saying. Well, I don't mind telling an old friend like you, Halibut, though it is a profound secret. Makes me rather particular about my dress just now. Women notice these things. I'm—sha'nt get much sympathy from a confirmed old bachelor like you—but I'm on my way to put a very momentous question."
"The devil you are!" said the other, blankly.
"Sir!" said the astonished Major.
"Not Mrs. Riddel?" said Halibut.
"Certainly, sir," said the Major, stiffly. "Why not?"
"Only that I am going on the same errand," said the confirmed bachelor, with desperate calmness.
The Major looked at him, and for the first time noticed an unusual neatness and dressiness in his friend's attire. His collar was higher than usual; his tie, of the whitest and finest silk, bore a pin he never remembered to have seen before; and for the first time since he had known him, the Major, with a strange sinking at the heart, saw that he wore spats.
"This is extraordinary," he said, briefly. "Well, good-day, Halibut. Can't stop."