It is one of our disadvantages." Mr.Mafferton heard me with attention.
"Really!" he said in quite his old manner when we used to discuss Presidential elections and peanuts and other features of life in my republic.

"That is a fact of some interest--but I see you cling to one little Americanism, Miss Wick.

Do you remember"-- he actually looked arch--"once assuring me that you intended to abandon the verb to 'guess' ?" "I don't know why we should leave all the good words to Shakespeare," I said, "but I was under a great many hallucinations about the American language in England, and I daresay I did." If I responded coldly, it was at the thought of my last interview with poor dear Arthur, and his misprised larynx.

But at this moment a wildly encouraging sign from Dicky reminded me that his interests and not my own emotions were to be considered.
"We mustn't reproach each other, must we," I said softly.

"_I_ don't bear a particle of malice--really and truly." Mr.Mafferton cast a glance of alarm at Mr.Dod and Miss Portheris, who were raptly exchanging views as to the respective merits of a cleek and a brassey shot given certain peculiar bunkers and a sandy green--as if two infatuated people talking golf would have ears for anything else! "Not on any account," he said hurriedly.
"The best quality of friendship sometimes arises out of the most unfortunate circumstances," I added.