“You have a pang in the hip?”
“Oh no—no.”
“But you bounded. You cried 'hip'! Whose hip?”
“I was startled.”
“Unsatisfactory. The brain, not the hip, is the seat of the emotion. Elucidate.”
“I don't know why I said 'hip.' I was startled. Mr. George startled me.”
“Me also he startled. I did not shout hip, thigh, leg nor knee. Control the tongue.”
He turned to George. “Miss Humfray's extraordinary remark has projected this dilatory reception of your news. I beg you repeat it.”
Sprayed upon between mortification and laughter at the manner of his greeting, George's enthusiasm was a little damped. But its flame was too fierce to be hurt by a shower. Now it roared again. “I've passed!” he cried. “I'm qualified!”
“I tender my felicitations. Accept them. Leave us, Miss Humfray. This is a mighty hour. Take the Rose. Give her cream. Let her with us rejoice.”