And then another one comes, and she is drearier than the last--at least, I am." Francis lay back and laughed at this dismal picture of the rejection of the fittest.
"But you're so confoundedly hard to please, Mike," he said.

"There was an awfully nice girl down at Ashbridge at Easter when I was there, who was simply pining to take you.

I've forgotten her name." Michael clicked his fingers in a summary manner.
"There you are!" he said.

"You and she flirted all the time, and three months afterwards you don't even remember her name.

If you had only been me, you would have married her.