"I hate a feller who says smart things," said Sir Coke Only; "making a buffoon of himself."
"Ha, ha!" said Duncan Forbes, joining the group--"the carrier is jealous of the tumbler; it's a mere question of pigeons."
"What do you mean, Sir Duncan? I don't understand you," said Sir Coke angrily.
"Don't suppose you do--never gave you credit for anything of the sort.--How are you, all you fellows? What were the smart things that Bawlindor said, Tommy?"
"Well, I don't know; perhaps you wouldn't think 'em smart, Duncan, because you're a devilish clever chap yourself, and--"
"Yes, yes, we know all about that; but tell us some smart things that Bawlindor said--tell us one."
"Well, you know Tottenham? you know he gives awful heavy dinners? He was bragging about them one day at luncheon at East Standling, and Bawlindor said, 'There's one thing, my lord, I always envy when I'm dining with you.' 'What's that?' says Tottenham. "I envy your gas,' says Bawlindor, 'and it escapes.'"
"Ye-es! that was not bad for Bawlindor. I hate the brute though; I daresay he stole it from somebody else. Well, how are you all, and what's the news?"
"You ought to be able to tell us that," said Lord Sumph. "We're only just back in town, and you've been here all the time, haven't you, in the Tower or somewhere?"
"Not I; I'm only just back too."