"I feel very important," said Archie, coming on to the lawn where Myra and I were playing a quiet game of bowls with the croquet balls. "I've been paying the wages."
"Archie and I do hate it so," said Dahlia. "I'm luckier, because I only pay mine once a month."
"It would be much nicer if they did it for love," said Archie, "and just accepted a tie-pin occasionally. I never know what to say when I hand a man eighteen-and-six."
"Here's eighteen-and-six," I suggested, "and don't bite the half-sovereign, because it may be bad."
"You should shake his hand," said Myra, "and say, 'Thank you very much for the azaleas.'"
"Or you might wrap the money up in paper and leave it for him in one of the beds."
"And then you'd know whether he had made it properly."
"Well, you're all very helpful," said Archie. "Thank you extremely. Where are the others? It's a pity that they should be left out of this."
"Simpson disappeared after breakfast with his golf-clubs. He is in high dudgeon—which is the surname of a small fish—because no one wanted to see his swing."
"Oh, but I do," said Dahlia eagerly. "Where is he?"