"I wish we were labelled," said Rickie. He wished that all the
confidence and mutual knowledge that is born in such a place as
Cambridge could be organized. People went down into the world
saying, "We know and like each other; we shan't forget." But they
did forget, for man is so made that he cannot remember long
without a symbol; he wished there was a society, a kind of
friendship office, where the marriage of true minds could be
registered.

"Why labels?"

"To know each other again."

"I have taught you pessimism splendidly." He looked at his watch.

"What time?"

"Not twelve."

Rickie got up.

"Why go?" He stretched out his hand and caught hold of Rickie's
ankle.

"I've got that Miss Pembroke to lunch--that girl whom you say
never's there."

"Then why go? All this week you have pretended Miss Pembroke
awaited you. Wednesday--Miss Pembroke to lunch. Thursday--Miss
Pembroke to tea. Now again--and you didn't even invite her."