“Yes,” I assented wearily, for every word of this talk was a new pain. “Devilish odd!”
“I suppose it's a question of class again.”
“Or sex,” said I.
“What has sex to do with being straight?”
“Everything,” said I.
“Rot!” said Dale.
I sighed. “I wish your dialectical vocabulary were not so limited.”
He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.
“Still the same old Simon. It does my heart good to hear you. May I have another whisky?”
I took advantage of this break to change the conversation. He had told me nothing of his own affairs save that he was engaged to Maisie Ellerton.