The pricked ears fell flat: the bright brown eyes sank to the floor: the pert white tail was lowered incontinently. Nobby had hauled down his flag.
"Oh, Nobby!"
The terrier squirmed, laid his head upon the ground, and then rolled over upon his back….
"You can't blame the dog," said I. "Besides, he'll pay for it.
Quarter of a pound of chocolates'll fairly——"
"I've just remembered," said Daphne, "that they weren't chocolates at all. They were marrons glacés—the last of the bunch. They won't make any more this year."
Berry wiped his forehead,
"Are you saying this," he demanded, "to torment me? Or is it true?"
"It's a C.B. fact."
"But what about tea?" screamed her husband. "Tea without a marron glacé will be like—like Hell without the Prince of Darkness."
"I can't help it. France has a close season for them."