"What a game!" he exclaimed.

"That's all very well for you," said Dolly. "But do you happen
to remember that we dine there tonight?" Archie grew grave.

"I hope you'll enjoy yourselves," said I. "I always cling to the
belief that the wicked are punished." And I looked at Miss
Dolly.

"Never you mind, little woman," said Archie, drawing Miss Dolly's
arm through his, "I'll see you through. After all, everybody
knows that old Carter's an ass."

That piece of universal knowledge may help matters, but I do not
quite see how. I walked on, for Miss Dolly had quite forgotten
me, and was looking up at Archie Mickleham like--well, hang it,
in the way they do, you know. So I just walked on.

I believe Miss Dolly has got a husband who is (let us say) good
enough for her. And, for one reason and another, I am glad of
it. And I also believe that she knows it. And I am--I
suppose--glad of that, too. Oh, yes, of course, I am. Of
course.



THE PERVERSENESS OF IT

"I tell you what, Mr. Carter," said Miss Nellie Phaeton, touching
up Rhino with her whip, "love in a cottage is--"