“Yes,” I replied, very shortly.
“Come, come! They let you off easily enough,” sneered Drummle. “You shouldn’t have lost your temper.”
“Mr. Drummle,” said I, “you are not competent to give advice on that subject. When I lose my temper (not that I admit having done so on that occasion), I don’t throw glasses.”
“I do,” said Drummle.
After glancing at him once or twice, in an increased state of smouldering ferocity, I said,—
“Mr. Drummle, I did not seek this conversation, and I don’t think it an agreeable one.”
“I am sure it’s not,” said he, superciliously over his shoulder; “I don’t think anything about it.”
“And therefore,” I went on, “with your leave, I will suggest that we hold no kind of communication in future.”
“Quite my opinion,” said Drummle, “and what I should have suggested myself, or done—more likely—without suggesting. But don’t lose your temper. Haven’t you lost enough without that?”
“What do you mean, sir?”