"I can," returns Miss L'Estrange, presenting an uncompromising front. "I can also suggest to you that those lumps of sugar are meant to put in the cups with the tea, not to be consumed wholesale. Sugar, plain, is ruinous to the stomach and disastrous to the teeth."
"True, true," says Mr. Browne, absently, "and both mine are so pretty."
Miss L'Estrange rises to her feet and confronts him with a stony glare.
"Both what?" demands she.
"Eh? Why, both of them," persists Mr. Browne.
"I think, Richard, that the sooner you return to your hotel, or whatever low haunt you have chosen as your present abode, the better it will be for all present."
"Why so?" demands Mr. Browne, indignantly. "What have I done now?"
"You know very well, sir," says Miss L'estrange. "Your language is disgraceful. You take an opportunity of turning an innocent remark of mine, a kindly warning, into a ribald——"
"Good heavens!" says he, uplifting brows and hands. "I never yet knew it was ribaldry to talk about one's teeth."
"You were not talking about your teeth," says Miss L'Estrange sternly. "You said distinctly 'both of them.'"