"Well, I'm off for about ten days more. Then I've got to buckle to work—if I can get any work to buckle to, that is."
Mr. Beverley nodded thoughtfully and smiled. The next moment a loud giggling proceeded from where Miss Layard and Joe sat. The lady rose, saying, "I'll ask Mr. Beverley," and came towards them, Joe looking on with a broad grin on his face. "He's not like you—he's sensible and serious." After a quick glance over her shoulder at Joe, she addressed the author. "Oh, Mr. Beverley, you're a literary man and all that. Tell me, do you say 'ee-ther' or 'eye-ther'?" Her face was a picture of innocent gravity.
"Eye-ther," replied the eminent author promptly.
"But which?"
"Eye-ther."
"Oh, but haven't you a choice?"
"I tell you I say 'eye-ther,' Miss Layard."
Joe sniggered. Arthur began to smile slowly, as the joke dawned upon him.
"Just as it happens—or alternately—or on Sundays and week-days, or what, Mr. Beverley?"
"I've told you three times already that I say——" He stopped, looked at her sourly, and fell back in his stall, muttering something that sounded very like "Damned nonsense!"