Somehow or other, the 'cursed lawyers' always had interfered; and as sure as they walked in, Mr.Sponge walked out.

He couldn't bear the idea of their coarse, inquisitive inquiries.

He was too much of a gentleman! Love, light as air, at sight of human ties Spreads his light wings and in a moment flies.
So Mr.Sponge fled, consoling himself with the reflection that there was no harm done, and hoping for 'better luck next time.' He roved from flower to flower like a butterfly, touching here, alighting there, but always passing away with apparent indifference.

He knew if he couldn't square matters at short notice, he would have no better chance with an extension of time; so, if he saw things taking the direction of inquiry he would just laugh the offer off, pretend he was only feeling his way--saw he was not acceptable--sorry for it--and away he would go to somebody else.

He looked upon a woman much in the light of a horse; if she didn't suit one man, she would another, and there was no harm in trying.