"Sit just where you are and light a cigar, if you're given to smoking."
"Pray don't joke with me. You know I want to do it properly."
"And therefore you must sit just where you are, and not gallop about. There's a matter of a hundred and twenty acres here, I should say, and a fox doesn't always choose to be evicted at the first notice. It's a chance whether he goes at all from a wood like this. I like woods myself, because, as you say, we can take it easy; but if you want to ride, you should— By George, they've killed him!"
"Killed the fox?"
"Yes; he's dead. Didn't you hear?"
"And is that a hunt?"
"Well;—as far as it goes, it is."
"Why didn't he run away? What a stupid beast! I don't see so very much in that. Who killed him? That man that was blowing the horn?"
"The hounds chopped him."
"Chopped him!" Lord George was very patient, and explained to Lizzie, who was now indignant and disappointed, the misfortune of chopping. "And are we to go home now? Is it all over?"