"You don't seem to realize, wretched William Bates, that Jane is an extremely romantic girl. A fascinating stranger like this, coming suddenly into her life, may well snatch he away from you before you know where you are."
"That's all right," said William, lightly. "I don't mind admitting that the same idea occurred s to me. But I made judicious inquiries on the way round, and found out that the fellow's a poet. You don't seriously expect me to believe that there's any chance of falling in love with a poet?"
He spoke incredulously, for there were three things in the world that he held in smallest esteem - slugs, poets, and caddies with hiccups.
(from Rodney Fails To Qualify, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)