“My business is not with you. But unless I am improperly informed this tent harbors the famous lost English desert girl, Miss Verbeena Mayonnaise?”
“That was,” said Sheik Amut sticking up his nose at this haughty stranger. “She’s my wife now.”
CYRIL GRISTMILLE, THE GREAT WOMAN TAMER.
“Go in the tent then and tell her to come out to me—Mr. Cyril Gristmille—immediately. I would do business with her.”
“You would?”
“Hasten. Go right in and tell her to come out promptly.”
“Go in and tell her yourself,” said Amut. “I’m tired trying to tell her to do anything.”
“Very well,” said Mr. Gristmille and stalked toward the main tent.