“Well,” said Snodgrass eagerly, “you’ve got something to tell me?”
“Sure thing,” nodded Arnold. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Important?”
“Rather.”
“Out with it.”
“My throat’s too dry to talk. Wait till I get that fizz.”
“You hadn’t ought to drink it, you know. You’re in training.”
“Training be—jiggered! What am I training for?”
“The regatta at Whitney.”
“Come off! You know I’m training to help lose that race. Why shouldn’t I take a fizz? I’m awful dry.”