"Rise, rise," he said. "Stop grovelling. Oh, look here, you fellows, when I say 'On the stomach!' then you must——Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Mannering, I didn't see you were there."
"Where are my whiskers?" I asked sternly.
"My dear old chap, I couldn't do them; there wasn't enough to go round. I made two nice little eyebrows instead—you'll find them on your dressing-table. 'Oh, I am the Emperor Bong, I am beautiful, clever and strong. I am beauti——' Do you think I ought to wear my spectacles or not?"
There was a loud shout of "No!"
"Oh, all right. But I shall probably fall over the sunset or something. Thomas, if you see me wandering into a new moon, tap me on the head with your axe. Why isn't my rat-catcher dressed?"
"He was waiting for his whiskers."
"That's perfectly absurd. You could have grown a pair in the time. Go and dress at once."
"I refuse to do anything till a quarter-past eight," I said. "If I get into my things now, all the atmosphere will have worn off by the time we begin."
"It's worn off me a long time ago," said Thomas dismally.
"And me," said Myra, with a shiver.