"No, it's not my business. Besides, you'd be annoyed, and I've no wish to make our Jenny angry."
"I won't be angry. Do tell me, Fuz, what you was going to ask."
"Well, I will," he said, after a pause. "Jenny, are you very fond of Maurice?"
"If Maurice was--was a disappointment--for instance, if he married somebody else quite suddenly? Don't look so frightened; he's not going to, as far as I know; or likely to, but if ... would it upset your life?"
"My dearest Jane," Castleton cried, "I was only chaffing. Please don't cry. Jenny, Jenny, I'm only an inquisitive, speculative jackanapes. Maurice isn't going to do anything of the kind. Really. Besides, I thought--oh, Jane--I'm terribly ashamed of myself."
"Maurice said I shouldn't like you," Jenny sobbed. "And I don't. I hate you. Don't stay with me. Go out of the box. I'm going home. Where's Maurice? I want Maurice to come to me."
"He's dancing," said Castleton helplessly. "Jane, I'm an absolute beast. Jane, will you marry me and show your forgiving nature?"
"Don't go on teasing me," sobbed Jenny, louder than ever. "You're hateful. I hate you."
"No, but I mean it. Will you, Jenny? Really, I'm not joking. I'd marry you to-morrow."
Jenny's tears gradually turned to laughter, and at last she had to say:
"Oh, Fuz, you're hateful, but you are funny."
"It's a most extraordinary thing," he replied, "that the only person I don't want to laugh at me must do it. Jane!" He held out his hand. "Jane, are we pals again?"
"I suppose we've got to be," Jenny pouted.
"Oh, whoever was it said that to me once?" cried Jenny. "Years and years ago. Oh, whoever was it?"
"Years and years?" echoed Castleton, quizzing. "Who are you, ancient woman?"
"_Don't_ be silly. It was. Someone said it when I was a little girl. Oh, Fuz, I'd go raving mad to remember who it was."
"Well, anyway, I've said it now. And is it a bargain?"
"Which means that when I'm in trouble, I go to Jane for advice, and when Jane's in trouble, she comes to Fuz. Shake hands on that."
Jenny, feeling very shy of him for the first time during their acquaintanceship, let him take her hand.
"Not if Maurice asks me. I'd have to tell him."
"Would you? All right, if he asks, tell him."
Maurice, however, did not ask, being full of arrangements for supper and in a quandary of taste between Pol Roger and Perrier Jouet.