“I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. " "That's the way it goes. “It is not, of course, a pleasant subject of conversation for you or for me, yet I think I may venture to suggest to you that your sister’s—er—indiscretions—have reached a point which makes a separation between you almost a necessity. ’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. He had nothing more to say either to her or to Spurlock. ‘Jacques!’ He stopped, but he did not turn. He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. Meysey Hill—never your wife. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded.
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