"Do you realize that you are several kinds of a damned scoundrel?" he began. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. There was a hint of tears in her voice. A woman may choose any one for her lover, but for her friend she makes no mistake. B. Perhaps that other boy who visited you backstage at the concert. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him.
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