'I am not; I should have been in considerable pain if I hadn't said that. But why this suppression?'
Bertie delayed answering long enough to upset the salt with his elbow, and look reproachfully at the waiter for having done so.
'There isn't any suppression,' he said at length. 'The mercantile spirit is going strong. Stronger than ever. Damn!'
'Is it the salt you asked a blessing on?' said Charlie.
'No; the non-suppression.'
'Then you really are going to America in the autumn?' asked he. 'I beg its pardon, the fall.'
'Yes. Fall is just as good a word as autumn, by the way.'
'Oh, quite. Over there they think it better, and they have quite as good a right to judge as we. If they called it the pump-handle it wouldn't make any difference.'
'Not the slightest. Yes, I am going.'
Charlie smiled.