"My attentions to Miss Falconer--Are you chaffing, Howard ?" "Not in the least: it's usually too great a waste of time with you, my dear boy: you don't listen, and when you do, half the time you don't understand.

No, I'm quite serious; but perhaps I ought to have said her attentions to you; it would have been more correct." Stafford coloured.
"Look here, old man," he said.

"If you think--Oh, dash it all, what nonsense it is! Miss Falconer and I are very good friends; and of course I like to talk to her--she's so sharp, almost as smart and clever as you are, when she likes to take the trouble; and of course I like to hear her sing--Why, my dear Howard, it's like listening to one of the big operatic swells; but--but to suggest that there is anything--that--there is any reason to warn me--Oh, dash it! come off it, old man, you're chaffing ?" "Not in the least.

But I didn't intend any warning: in fact, I am in honour bound to refrain from anything of the kind--" "In honour bound ?" said Stafford.
Howard almost blushed.
"Oh, it's nothing; only a silly wager," he said.

"I can't tell you, so don't enquire.