BETTY. [_Turning smilingly to him._] No harm in my telling Hector--he scarcely knows her! [_She swings round to_ HECTOR _again._] Why, Walter simply _loathes_ the poor girl! That's what made it so funny! [_At the mere thought of it she bursts out laughing again, and goes on speaking through her laughter._] And I tell you--if you ever hear he's engaged to _her_--why, you can believe the rest of the story too! HECTOR. [_Laughing heartily as he pats_ WALTER _on the shoulder._] Poor old Walter! And, d'you know, I was quite pleased at the thought of his getting married! I was! [_He turns to him._] But it's better, old chap, for us--we'd have missed you--terribly! [_With another pat on_ WALTER'S _shoulder, he goes to the fire, and drops in the letter._] Mustn't leave _that_ lying about! [_He turns._] Well, by Jove, if any one had told me.... And drinking to him, and all! BETTY. If you'll fetch me that glass of Hock now, I _will_ drink to him, Hector. To Walter, the Bachelor! HECTOR. [_Beaming._] So we will! Good. I'll get it. [_He bustles into the dining-room._ BETTY. [_Moving swiftly to_ WALTER.] Well, now's your time. One thing or the other. WALTER. [_Savagely._] You fiend! BETTY. I'll go and see her to-morrow--see her constantly-- WALTER. Why are you doing this? BETTY. You've ruined my life and his. At least, _you_ shan't be happy. WALTER. And you imagine I'll come back to _you_--that we'll go on, you and I? BETTY. [_Scornfully._] No--don't be afraid! You've shown yourself to me to-day. That's all done with--finished. _His_ friend now--with the load off you--but never _her_ husband. Never! [HECTOR _comes bustling back, with the bottle of Hock, and a wine-glass that he gives to_ BETTY--_she holds it, and he fills it from the bottle._ HECTOR. Here you are, my girl--and now, where's my whiskey? [_He trots round to the side table, finds his glass, and_ WALTER'S--_hands one to_ WALTER.] Here, Wallie--yours must be the one that's begun--I didn't have time to touch mine! Here. [WALTER _takes it._] And forgive me, old man, for thinking, even one minute--[_He wrings him by the hand._] Here's to you, old friend. And Betty, to you! Oh, Lord, I just want this drink! BETTY. [_In cold, clear tones, as she holds up her glass._] To Walter, the Bachelor! [_She drains her glass;_ WALTER _has his moment's hesitation; he drinks, and with tremendous effort succeeds in composing his face._ HECTOR. [_Gaily._] To Walter, the Bachelor! [_He drinks his glass to the dregs and puts it down._] And now--for a game. WALTER. I think I--