“He likes it, my dear,” said Babie.
“It is a gentle titillation,” said Allen.
“He can’t get on without it,” said the Friar.
“And comes for it like the cattle to the scrubbing-stones,” said the Skipjack.
“Yes,” said Armine; “but he tries to get pitied, like Chico walking on three legs when some one is looking at him.”
“You deal in most elegant comparisons,” said the mother.
“Only to get him a little more pitied,” said Jock. “He is as grateful as possible for being made so interesting.”
“Hark, there’s a knock!” cried Allen. “Can’t you instruct your cubs not to punish the door so severely, Jock? I believe they think that the more row they make, the more they proclaim their nobility!”
“The obvious derivation of the word stunning,” said Mother Carey, as she rose to meet her guests in the drawing-room, and Cecil to hold the door for her.
“Stay, Evelyn,” said Allen. “This is the night when unlicked cubs do disport themselves in our precincts. A mistaken sense of philanthropy has led my mother to make this house the fortnightly salon bleu of St. Thomas’s. But there’s a pipe at your service in my room.”