"Thee mayst lay a place for me, friend," said the Quaker to the waiter, as he watched the preparations with bland enjoyment.
"Did you order any drinks?" asked Banborough of the tragedian.
"No, Bishop, I didn't," replied the latter. "As you're paying for the show, I thought I'd leave you that privilege."
"Order six soda lemonades," said Banborough to the waiter, adding behind his hand to Spotts, as he noted the gloom spread over the company: "No liquor to-night. We need to keep our wits about us."
"Stop, friend," came the unctuous tones of the Quaker, arresting the waiter as he was about to leave the room. "For myself I never take strong waters, but thee forgettest, Bishop," giving Banborough the title he had heard the others use, "thee forgettest that our revered friend," with a wave of his hand in Mrs. Mackintosh's direction, "hath an affection of her lungs which requires her to take a brandy and soda for her body's good before meals. Let it be brought at once!"
"Why, you impudent upstart!" gasped the old lady, as the door closed behind the waiter. "How dare you say I drink!"
"Shoo!" returned Friend Othniel, lapsing from the Quaker into the tramp; "I ain't orderin' it for youse. I've a throat like a Sahara."
Then turning to the other members of the company, he continued:
"Now seein' as we've a moment alone, and bein' all criminals, I votes we has a session o' the committee o' ways and means."
A chorus of indignant protest arose from every side.