De Castro.
Detaining him. I thay, Carlton.
Smythe.
Eh?
De Castro.
Lowering his voice. I’ve been in front again to-night. Magnifithent! Marvellouth!
Smythe.
Resignedly. It’ll do; I shall get a couple o’ years out of it.
De Castro.
There’th jutht one little improvement I’d like to thee, if I may thuggetht it.