He paused impressively to allow this startling statement to sink
in.
"And was he?" said George.
"Absolutely not! That was the rummy part of it. He looked as like
you as your twin brother."
"I haven't a twin brother."
"No, I know what you mean, but what I mean to say is he looked just
like your twin brother would have looked if you had had a twin
brother. Well, I had a word or two with this chappie, and after a
brief conversation it was borne in upon me that I was up to the
gills. Alice was with me at the time, and noticed it too. Now you'd
have thought that that would have put a girl off a fellow, and all
that. But no. Nobody could have been more sympathetic. And she has
confided to me since that it was seeing me in my oiled condition
that really turned the scale. What I mean is, she made up her mind
to save me from myself. You know how some girls are. Angels
absolutely! Always on the look out to pluck brands from the
burning, and what not. You may take it from me that the good seed
was definitely sown that night."
"Is that your recipe, then? You would advise the would-be
bridegroom to buy a case of champagne and a wedding licence and get
to work? After that it would be all over except sending out the
invitations?"
Reggie shook his head.
"Not at all. You need a lot more than that. That's only the start.
You've got to follow up the good work, you see. That's where a
number of chappies would slip up, and I'm pretty certain I should
have slipped up myself, but for another singularly rummy
occurrence. Have you ever had a what-do-you-call it? What's the
word I want? One of those things fellows get sometimes."
"Headaches?" hazarded George.
"No, no. Nothing like that. I don't mean anything you get--I mean
something you get, if you know what I mean."
"Measles?"
"Anonymous letter. That's what I was trying to say. It's a most
extraordinary thing, and I can't understand even now where the
deuce they came from, but just about then I started to get a whole
bunch of anonymous letters from some chappie unknown who didn't
sign his name."
"What you mean is that the letters were anonymous," said George.
"Absolutely. I used to get two or three a day sometimes. Whenever
I went up to my room, I'd find another waiting for me on the
dressing-table."
"Offensive?"
"Eh?"
"Were the letters offensive? Anonymous letters usually are."
"These weren't. Not at all, and quite the reverse. They
contained a series of perfectly topping tips on how a fellow should
proceed who wants to get hold of a girl."