Jim Cooley, our vice-consul in London. Jim ain't the wisest man in the world, but he seems to have this all right, and he says Mr. Hawcastle—[pg 133]
LADY CREECH
[exploding]
Mr. Hawcastle!
PIKE
[placatingly]
Well, I can call a person Colonel or Cap or Doc or anything of that kind, but I just plain don't know how to use the kind of words you have over here for those things. They don't seem to fit my mouth, somehow. Just let me run on my own way. I don't mean to hurt your feelings. Anyway, Jim says your brother-in-law was in business in Russia.
[Up to this point he has gone on rapidly, but after the word "Russia" he pauses abruptly as if startled by a sudden thought and slowly repeats.]
"In business in Russia!"
[He rises.]