Can't you understand? said Bobbie.

I said. Yes, said Bobbie.

It was Bobbie, of course.

Bobbie and Margaret, fighting again.

It was like that with Bobbie.

And Bobbie said that there wouldn't.

It was a letter. Go on, said Bobbie.

I've just been chatting with Bobbie, Mrs. Cardew.

And Bobbie seemed to think the same about her.

Bobbie didn't get into the soup all at once.

Anyhow, dear old Bobbie nearly foamed at the mouth.

That might fix the month. Bobbie shook his head.

Some boys were sailing boats. One looked like Bobbie.

You're a great help, Bobbie, I said. An invaluable assistant.

I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew.

Bobbie, she's proud of him, and doesn't want her handiwork disturbed.

I forgot them. And it was just the same with Bobbie.

Bobbie seemed to be thinking. I've got it, he said suddenly.

Can this be love? Well, Bobbie had a soul's awakening too.

I heard him give a sort of howl. Bobbie, I said.

It's such a little thing to make a fuss about, said Bobbie.

A pretty hot idea for a non thinker like dear old Bobbie.

The average man isn't like Bobbie, and the average girl isn't like Mary.

Marriage, I mean. Marriage, the dynamite of the soul that was what hit Bobbie.

She wasn't the sort of girl you would have expected Bobbie to rave about.

She seemed to think Bobbie the greatest thing on earth, judging by the way she

It was wonderful what a change the next few days made in dear old Bobbie.

I told you it was May, said Bobbie. Maybe you'll listen to me another time.

Here's old Reggie, dear, said Bobbie. I've brought him home to have a bit of dinner.

To be absolutely frank, old top, said poor old Bobbie, in a broken sort of way,

Bobbie was all for May, because the book said that women born in that month were

People have called me a silly ass, but I was never in the same class with Bobbie.

Well, Bobbie, I said, it's a pretty hard case to spring on an untrained amateur like me.

I could see as plainly as possible that all these brainstorms were improving Bobbie out of knowledge.

When we got to the flat, there was Mrs. Bobbie looking well, I tell you, it staggered me.

I still see Bobbie when he comes to the club, but I do not visit the old homestead.

Bobbie broke the news to me at the club one evening, and next day he introduced me to her.

I happened to meet Bobbie in Piccadilly, and he asked me to come back to dinner at the flat.

Elephants, I read somewhere, are champions at the memory business, but they were fools to Bobbie during that week.

Dozens of fellows, who have only met Bobbie since the change took place, have been surprised when I told them that.

I suppose you're right, said Bobbie. But it beats me why she thinks such a lot of these rotten little dates.

In the days when I first knew him Bobbie Cardew was about the most pronounced young rotter inside the four mile radius.

There was Bobbie, ambling gently through life, a dear old chap in a hundred ways, but undoubtedly a chump of the first water.

She talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on the piano afterwards, as if she hadn't a care in the world.

I saw that clearly enough, and I tried to make Bobbie see it, when he was by way of pouring out his troubles to me one afternoon.