When the Girls Came Out
"You might do worse than think it over," I murmured mildly.
He flung himself into a chair and scattered my papers with his manly elbows.
"These women will drive me mad," said he.
"Take a reasonable view of the thing," said I. "Make a judicious choice. Sit on your silly pride. If you love a girl you won't mind being called a fortune-hunter—"
"I don't love any of 'em enough for that," cried he with some force. "It's getting a bit too sultry for me, Martin. How'd you like it if all the girls you knew came back crying over you, and forgiving you all your sins, because you'd lost something. Oh, these women! When a chap's a bit worried with something really important, they all come and chuck themselves at his head. As if you could fight the world any better with a silly woman hanging round your neck. Blithering sentimental rot!"
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