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My task
would be easier. Why hasn't he fallen in love with one of the chorus
whom his congeners take out to supper? He is an aggravating fellow.
I have declined to discuss her merits or demerits with him. I could
scarcely do that with dignity, said I; a remark which seemed to impress
him with a sense of my honesty. I asked what were his intentions
regarding her. I discovered that they were still indefinite. In his
exalted moments he talked of marriage.
"But what has become of her husband?" I inquired, drawing a bow at a
venture.
"I suppose he's dead," said Dale.
"But suppose he isn't?"
He informed me in his young magnificence that Lola and himself would be
above foolish moral conventions.
"Indeed?" said I.
"Don't pretend to be a Puritan," said he.
"I don't pretend to like the idea, anyhow," I remarked.
He shrugged his shoulders. It was not the time for a lecture on
morality.
"How do you know that the lady returns your passion?" I asked, watching
him narrowly.
He grew red.


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