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Part 29

Dolly Dialogues · Anthony Hope — chapter 29 of 69 · ~368 words · public domain

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“Stop,” said I firmly. “She looked just like a lot of other girls.”

“I’m hanged if she did!” said Hilary.

Then he glanced at me with a puzzled sort of expression.

“I say, old man, weren’t you ever that way yourself?” he asked.

I hailed a hansom cab.

“Because, if you were, you know, you’d understand how a fellow remembers every--”

“Good night,” said I. “At least I suppose you’re not coming to the club?”

“Well, I think not,” said Hilary. “Ta-ta, old fellow. Sorry we bored you. Of course, if a man has never--”

“Never!” I groaned. “A score of times!”

“Well, then, doesn’t it--?

“No,” said I. “It’s just that that makes stories like yours so infernally--”

“What?” asked Hilary; for I had paused to light a cigarette.

“Uninteresting,” said I, getting into my cab.

STRANGE, BUT TRUE

The other day my young cousin George lunched with me. He is a cheery youth, and a member of the University of Oxford. He refreshes me very much, and I believe that I have the pleasure of affording him some matter for thought. On this occasion, however, he was extremely silent and depressed. I said little, but made an extremely good luncheon. Afterwards we proceeded to take a stroll in the Park.

“Sam, old boy,” said George suddenly, “I’m the most miserable devil alive.”

“I don’t know what else you expect at your age,” I observed, lighting a cigar. He walked on in silence for a few moments.

“I say, Sam, old boy, when you were young, were you ever--?” he paused, arranged his neckcloth (it was more like a bed-quilt--oh, the fashion, of course, I know that), and blushed a fine crimson.

“Was I ever what, George?” I had the curiosity to ask.

“Oh, well, hard hit, you know--a girl, you know.”

“In love, you mean, George? No, I never was.”

“Never?”

“No. Are you?”

“Yes. Hang it!” Then he looked at me with a puzzled air and continued:

“I say, though, Sam, it’s awfully funny you shouldn’t have--don’t you know what it’s like, then?”

“How should I?” I inquired apologetically. “What is it like, George?”

George took my arm.

“It’s just Hades,” he informed me confidentially.

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