"Naturally," he said, summoning all his latent powers of diplomacy, "there are cases in which extraction is unfortunately necessary."
"How many teeth have you extracted?" she inquired.
"I really couldn't say," he lied. "Very many."
"Because," she said, "you don't look as if you could say 'Bo!' to a goose."
He observed a gleam in her eye.
"I think I can say 'Bo!' to a goose," he said. She laughed.
"Don't fancy, Mr Cowlishaw, that if I laugh I'm not in the most horrible pain. I am. When I tell you I couldn't go with Mr Clowes to the match—"
"Will you take this seat?" he said, indicating the chair of chairs; "then I can examine."
She obeyed. "I do hate the horrid, velvety feeling of these chairs," she said; "it's most creepy."
"I shall have to trouble you to take your bonnet off."