"Well?" I said.
The word was sharp and incisive, a regular lawyer's question.
"Of course, you're joking about this chorus girl?"
"Joking! Daphne, you know I'd do anything for you."
Daphne smiled. "But, Billy, I shan't like you any better if you marry
her."
I bit a piece of cake coldly. "I don't understand you, Daphne," I
said. "When I ask you to show me a little affection, only just what
you show others, you tell me I'm young and married men are different.
I arrange to be different at considerable personal sacrifice, and you
tell me you won't like me any better." I swallowed convulsively.
"But, Billy--dear--you're not actually engaged?"
"I'm not so sure," I replied. "These girls are wonderfully sharp; and
then, of course, I'm so young." (A good touch.)
There was a silence.
"I shall hate you if you marry a chorus girl," said Daphne.
"Then why did you tell me married men were different?"
"Because most of them are." Daphne smiled slowly. "I think I might
like you better if you were married to some really nice girl."