Narramore took his pipe out of its case and smiled over it.

"Colours well, doesn't it?" he remarked. "You don't care about the
colouring of a pipe? I get a lot of satisfaction out of such little
things! Lazy fellows always do; and they have the best of life in
the end. By-the-bye, what were _you_ doing at Dudley?"

"Had to go over with a girl."

"Rather a pretty girl, too. Old acquaintance?"

"Someone I got to know in London. No, no, not at all what you
suppose."

"Well, I know you wouldn't talk about it. It isn't my way, either,
to say much about such things. But I half-promised, not long ago, to
let you know of something that was going on--if it came to
anything. And it rather looks as if it might. What do you think!
Birching has been at me, wanting to know why I don't call. I wonder
whether the girl put him up to it?"

"You went rather far, didn't you?"

"Oh, I drew back in time. Besides, those ideas are old-fashioned.
It'll have to be understood that marriageable girls have nothing
specially sacred about them. They must associate with men on equal
terms. The day has gone by for a hulking brother to come asking a
man about his 'intentions.' As a rule, it's the girl that has
intentions. The man is just looking round, anxious to be amiable
without making a fool of himself. We're at a great disadvantage. A