It was a music-hall refrain that made a perfect quickstep-- He must be a man of decent height, He must be a man of weight, He must come home on a Saturday night In a thoroughly sober state; He must know how to love me, And he must know how to kiss; And if he's enough to keep us both I can't refuse him bliss.
'What's the matter ?' said Torpenhow, as he saw Dick's head fall when the last of the regiment had departed.
'Nothing.

I feel a little bit out of the running,--that's all.

Torp, take me back.

Why did you bring me out ?'.