“Well, puttin’ it coarsely, dope. And good.”
“Ve borrow a lizart and try him again,” said Mr Mandelbaum, thoughtfully. “Perhaps zat vos only a chance. Ach, here is Sir John!”
The neatness and freshness of Sir John’s attire made the other men look untidy. Sir John had been distressed to hear of the carelessness of one of the native waiters the day before, but at the same time he thought it would have been better if Lord Charles had not thrown the glass in the boy’s face. Glassware was so difficult to replace. It would have been enough to have said a word to Thomas about it. “And though the boy’s eye will probably get all right again, we think it’s politic not to handle the natives too roughly.”
“Awfully sorry,” said Lord Charles. “This club etiquette does hedge you around, don’t it? And I give you my word of honour there was nobody else there to chuck the blessed glass at. And—oh! I say, when’s Pryce comin’ back? He’s been away a week.”
“Not quite a week. As it happens, I’m expecting him every moment. But he goes away again to-night.”
“But ze girl vos all right again now, zey tell me,” said Mandelbaum.
“Well, yes,” said Sir John, genially. “A good recovery, I’m glad to say. But possibly Mr Lechworthy is still a little nervous. Smith, too, can’t be there much, he has his business, and I daresay he’s getting the doctor to help him with his guests. Our friend Pryce knows the island, you see.”
“Shall we gather at the river?” suggested the parrot very loudly, and with distinct lapses from accuracy in its reproduction of the melody. Nobody took any notice of it.
“Well, if Pryce is comin’, I’ll wait,” said Lord Charles. “I want to do a little lizard-racin’ with him.”