“Going down to the House to-night?” I inquired.
“No. It’s Wednesday, thank Heaven! I’ve been down there this afternoon, but we rose at six. Where are you toddling?”
“Anywhere,” I answered. “I want to look in at the Naval and Military for a letter first.”
“From a charmer, eh?” he asked, with a merry twinkle.
“No,” I answered briefly.
“You’re a rum chap, Clifton,” he said. “You never seem to take girls up the river, to the theatre, or to the races, as other men do. I’m beginning to think that you don’t like womankind.”
“Well, I don’t know. I fancy I’ve had as many little affairs of the heart as most men,” I answered.
“Somebody was saying the other day that you were likely to be engaged to May Symonds. Is it true?”
“Whoever said so is certainly premature,” I laughed. “Then you don’t deny it, old chap?”
I shrugged my shoulders, smiled, and together we ascended the club steps.