'Do try to make Mr. Carter understand!'
We were left alone. George wore a meditative smile. Presently he roused himself to say,—
'She's really a very kind woman. She's so sympathetic. She's not like you. I expect she felt it once herself, you know.'
'One can never tell,' said I carelessly. 'Perhaps she did—once.'
George fell to brooding again. I thought I would try an experiment.
'Not altogether bad-looking, either, is she?' I asked, lighting a cigarette.
George started.
'What? Oh, well, I don't know. I suppose some people might think so.'
He paused, and added, with a bashful, knowing smile,—
'You can hardly expect me to go into raptures about her, can you, old man?'
I turned my head away, but he caught me.
'Oh, you needn't smile in that infernally patronising way,' he cried angrily.
'Upon my word, George, said I, 'I don't know that I need.'
