"Oh, bother that!" said he. "How many gowns believe in their own sermons? How many lawyers believe in their own arguments?"
"Unhappily, not as many as might."
"I don't object to telling you, old chap," he continued, "that I went in
a little deeper than I intended. A good deal deeper, in fact. Miss
Trevor is a deuced fine girl, and all that; but absolutely impossible.
I forgot myself, and I confess I was pretty close to caught."
"I congratulate you," I said gravely.
"That's the point of it. I don't know that I'm out of the woods yet.
I wanted to see you and find out how she was acting."
My first impulse was to keep him in hot water. Fortunately I thought twice.
"I don't know anything about Miss Trevor's feelings—" I began.
"Naturally not—" he interrupted, with a smile.
"But I have a notion that, if she ever fancied you, she doesn't care a straw for you to-day."
"Doesn't she now," he replied somewhat regretfully. Here was one of the knots in his character I never could untie.