His masculinity revolted.

The young barbarian clamoured.

A hard day on the river he found much more to his taste than sporting in the shade of a Kensington flat over tea and sandwiches with no matter how sentimental an Amaryllis.

Jane, who had seen the performance, though not from a box, a couple of upper-circle seats being all that Paul could obtain from the acting-manager, and had been vastly impressed by Paul's dominating position in the stage fairy-world, said to him, with a sniff that choked a sigh: "Now that you've got all those pretty girls around you, I suppose you soon won't think of me any longer ?" Paul waved the dreaded houris away as though they were midges.

"I'm sick of girls," he replied in a tone of such sincerity that Jane tossed her head.
"Oh?
Then I suppose you lump me with the rest and are sick of me too ?" "Don't worry a fellow," said Paul.