es no correct way of jilting. It's not
correct in itself.

BOBBY. [hopefully] I'll tell you what. I'll say I cant hold her to an
engagement with a man whos been in quod. Thatll do it. [He seats himself
on the table, relieved and confident].

JUGGINS. Very dangerous, sir. No woman will deny herself the romantic
luxury of self-sacrifice and forgiveness when they take the form of
doing something agreeable. Shes almost sure to say that your misfortune
will draw her closer to you.

BOBBY. What a nuisance! I dont know what to do. You know, Juggins, your
cool simple-minded way of doing it wouldnt go down in Denmark Hill.

JUGGINS. I daresay not, sir. No doubt youd prefer to make it look like
an act of self-sacrifice for her sake on your part, or provoke her to
break the engagement herself. Both plans have been tried repeatedly, but
never with success, as far as my knowledge goes.

BOBBY. You have a devilish cool way of laying down the law. You know,
in my class you have to wrap up things a bit. Denmark Hill isn't
Camberwell, you know.

JUGGINS. I have noticed, sir, that Denmark Hill thinks that the higher
you go in the social scale, the less sincerity is allowed; and that
only tramps and riff-raff are quite sincere. Thats a mistake. Tramps
are often shameless; but theyre never sincere. Swells--if I may use that
convenient name for the upper classes--play much more with their cards
on the table. If you tell the young lady that you want to jilt her, and
she calls you a pig, the tone of the transaction may leave much to
be desired; but itll be less Camberwellian than if you say youre not
worthy.

BOBBY. Oh, I cant make you understand, Juggins. The girl isnt a
scullery-maid. I want to do it delicately.

JUGGINS. A mistake, sir, believe me, if you are not a born artist in
that line.--Beg pardon, sir, I think I heard the bell. [He goes out].

_Bobby, much perplexed, shoves his hands into his pockets, and comes
off the table, staring disconsolately straight before him; then goes
reluctantly to his books, and sits down to write. Juggins returns._

JUGGINS. [announcing] Miss Knox.

_Margaret comes in. Juggins withdraws._

MARGARET. Still grinding away for that Society of Arts examination,
Bobby? Youll never pass.

BOBBY. [rising] No: I was just writing to you.

MARGARET. What about?

BOBBY. Oh, nothing. At least-- How are you?

MARGARET. [passing round the other end of the table and putting down on
it a copy of Llo