He looked extremely
apologetic, and very much ashamed of himself.
"Awfully sorry, old chap," said he, "that we bored you with our
reminiscences. I know, of course, that they can't be very
interesting to other people. Women are so confoundedly
romantic."
"Don't try that on me," said I, much disgusted. "You were just
as bad yourself."
He laughed, as he leant against the door.
"She did look ripping in that white frock," he said, "with her
hair--"
"Stop," said I firmly. "She looked just like a lot of other
girls."
"I'm hanged if she did!" said Hilary.
Then he glanced at me with a puzzled sort of expression.
"I say, old man, weren't you ever that way yourself?" he asked.
I hailed a hansom cab.
"Because, if you were, you know, you'd understand how a fellow
remembers every--"
"Good night," said I. "At least I suppose you're not coming to
the club?"
"Well, I think not," said Hilary. "Ta-ta, old fellow. Sorry we
bored you. Of course, if a man has never--"
"Never!" I groaned. "A score of times!"
"Well, then, doesn't it--?
"No," said I. "It's just that that makes stories like yours so
infernally--"
"What?" asked Hilary; for I had paused to light a cigarette.
"Uninteresting," said I, getting into my cab.
Pages:
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75