It ought not to be possible, he
thought, for a jilted lover to look so pleasantly on life.
"Well," said Sam Wyndham to his wife when everybody was gone, and he had
lit a big cigar; "well, it was a pleasant kind of an evening, was not it?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Sam, sitting down in a low easy-chair for a chat with her
husband. "What a nice boy that young Englishman is."
"I was just going to say so," said Sam. "He made himself pretty
comfortable with Sybil, did he not? I could not help thinking they looked
a very pretty pair as they sat in that corner. What is he?"
"He is Miss Thorn's cousin. Sam, you really must not drop your ashes on
the carpet. There are no end of saucers and things about."
"Oh, bother the carpet, my dear," said Sam good-naturedly; "tell me about
that young fellow--what is his name?--Surbiton, is not it?"
"Yes--well, there is not very much to tell. He is here traveling for
amusement, just like any other young Englishman. For my part I expected he
had come here to marry his cousin, because Englishmen always marry their
cousins.
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