"Perhaps I ought to say a colt."
"Oh,—a colt."
"Do you suppose, Dolly, that Miss Boncassen doesn't know all that?" asked Silverbridge.
"He supposes that my American ferocity has never been sufficiently softened for the reception of polite erudition."
"You two have been quarrelling, I fear."
"I never quarrel with a woman," said Dolly.
"Nor with a man in my presence, I hope," said Miss Boncassen.
"Somebody does seem to have got out of bed at the wrong side," said Silverbridge.
"I did," said Miss Boncassen. "I got out of bed at the wrong side. I am cross. I can't get over the spoiling of my flounces. I think you had better both go away and leave me. If I could walk about the room for half an hour and stamp my feet, I should get better." Silverbridge thought that as he had come last, he certainly ought to be left last. Miss Boncassen felt that, at any rate, Mr. Longstaff should go. Dolly felt that his manhood required him to remain. After what had taken place he was not going to leave the field vacant for another. Therefore he made no effort to move.
"That seems rather hard upon me," said Silverbridge. "You told me to come."