[With gusto.] I will thank you, Captain de Foenix, to exercise your intelligence this evening to its furthest limit.
De Foenix.
I'll twy, sir.
Sir William.
[Laughing unpleasantly.] He, he, he! last night, sir——
Clara.
Poor Frederick had toothache last night, grandpa.
Sir William.
[Tartly.] Whist is whist, Clara, and toothache is toothache. We will endeavor to keep the two things distinct, if you please. He, he!