He turned away to reach for his whisky and soda.
“As a matter of curiosity,” he asked, “why?”
“To begin with, then,” she commented, “you have become almost a precisian in your speech. You used to be rather slangy at times.”
“What else?”
“You used always to clip your final g's.”
“Shocking habit,” he murmured. “I cured myself of that by reading aloud in the bush. Go on, please?”
“You carry yourself so much more stiffly. Sometimes you have the air of being surprised that you are not in uniform.”
“Trifles, all these things,” he declared. “Now for something serious?”
“The serious things are pretty good,” she admitted. “You used to drink whiskys and sodas at all hours of the day, and quite as much wine as was good for you at dinner time. Now, although you are a wonderful host, you scarcely take anything yourself.”
“You should see me at the port,” he told her, “when you ladies are well out of the way! Some more of the good, please?”