They'll get on to you, sure.

Particularly since you come up here to see Miss Fanhall so much." Hawker glinted his eyes at his friend.

"You've got a deuced open way of speaking," he observed.
"Deuced open, is it ?" cried Hollanden.

"It isn't near so open as your devotion to Miss Fanhall, which is as plain as a red petticoat hung on a hedge." Hawker's face gloomed, and he said, "Well, it might be plain to you, you infernal cat, but that doesn't prove that all those old hens can see it." "I tell you that if they look twice at you they can't fail to see it.
And it's bad, too.

Very bad.