“Not if you think those things—” said Alvina.
“Oh really! The difficulty is, you see, I’m afraid I do think them—” Alvina watched him with big, heavy eyes.
“Go away,” she said. “Go away! I won’t be insulted by you.”
“No indeed!” cried Mr. May, starting to his feet, his eyes almost bolting from his head. “No indeed! I wouldn’t think of insulting you in the presence of these two young gentlemen.”
Ciccio rose slowly, and with a slow, repeated motion of the head, indicated the door.
“Allez!” he said.
“Certainement!” cried Mr. May, flying at Ciccio, verbally, like an enraged hen yellow at the gills. “Certainement! Je m’en vais. Cette compagnie n’est pas de ma choix.”
“Allez!” said Ciccio, more loudly.
And Mr. May strutted out of the room like a bird bursting with its own rage. Ciccio stood with his hands on the table, listening. They heard Mr. May slam the front door.
“Gone!” said Geoffrey.