"Oh yes, that lovely punch, papa, you know, with champagne and hock and curaçao in—and all the rest of it."
"Well, I suppose I must. Now that I have once got into all this—this artist business, why ..." And off he went for the key of the cellar.
No sooner was he out of the room than William burst out laughing.
"Oh, Marie, you are the most irresistible little devil that ever lived." And he waltzed her round and round.
"Well, it wanted some doing to-day, William, I can tell you. I was half afraid I shouldn't manage it after all. As it was, I had to cry before he'd come round."
"First-rate. Woman's tears are the finest weapon ever invented—and punch on top of all—bravo! Come along, we must go and prepare the rest of the band for what's coming."
Out in the kitchen, Holm was busy over a punch bowl, solemnly stirring the brew and dropping in slices of lemon one by one.
"I am an old fool, I know, to let them get round me as they do. H'm. And the longer I leave it, the worse it will be. We shall have to come to a proper understanding some time; it can't go on like this...."
"Papa, are you nearly ready?"
"Coming, coming, dear, in a minute. Open the door, there's a good girl."