"Ah, what a brute!" cried Spencer Coyle.
"She's a most extraordinary girl—I don't know what she's up to."
"Extraordinary indeed—to be romping and bandying words at that hour of the night with fast young men!"
Young Lechmere reflected a moment. "I mean because I think she likes him."
Spencer Coyle was so struck with this unwonted symptom of subtlety that he flashed out: "And do you think he likes her?"
But his interlocutor only replied with a puzzled sigh and a plaintive "I don't know—I give it up!—I'm sure he did see something or hear something," young Lechmere added.
"In that ridiculous place? What makes you sure?"
"I don't know—he looks as if he had. He behaves as if he had."
"Why, then, shouldn't he mention it?"
Young Lechmere thought a moment. "Perhaps it's too grewsome!"
Spencer Coyle gave a laugh. "Aren't you glad, then, you're not in it?"
