Good night, Mr. Carter. I turned to Miss Phyllis. Hilary came to help me on with my coat. He looked extremely apologetic, and very much ashamed of himself. I know, of course, that they can't be very interesting to other people.
Women are so confoundedly romantic.
You were just as bad yourself. He laughed, as he leant against the door. Then he glanced at me with a puzzled sort of expression. I hailed a hansom cab. Ta-ta, old fellow.