Tell me, tell me, tell me!"
Briefly I disclosed to him that his brother had entangled himself with
a young person who had indeed been a dancing girl or a bit like that
in the province of Alaska. That at the time of my cable there was
strong reason to believe she would stop at nothing--even marriage, but
that I had since come to suspect that she might be bent only on making
a fool of her victim, she being, although an honest enough character,
rather inclined to levity and without proper respect for established
families.
I hinted briefly at the social warfare of which she had been a storm
centre. I said again, remembering the warm words of the Mixer and of
my charwoman, that to the best of my knowledge her character was
without blemish. All at once I was feeling preposterously sorry for
the creature.
His lordship listened, though with a cross-fire of interruptions.
"Alaska dancing girl. Silly! Nothing but snow and mines in Alaska."
Or, again, "Make a fool of old George? What silly piffle! Already done
it himself, what, what! Waste her time!" And if she wasn't keen to
marry him, had I called him across the ocean to intervene in a vulgar
village squabble about social precedence? "Social precedence silly
rot!"
I insisted that his brother should be seen to.
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