Fräulein Schmidt and Mr. Anstruther

by Elizabeth Von Arnim

'Get 'em in London? Get what in London?'

'Must one go every time all the way to Epsom?'

Joey ceased from speech and began to stare.

'Are we not talking about salts?' I inquired hastily, feeling that one of us was off the track.

'Salts?' echoed Joey, his mouth hanging open.

'You mentioned Epsom, surely?'

'Salts?'

'You did say Epsom, didn't you?'

'Salts?'

'Salts,' said I, becoming very distinct in the presence of what looked like deliberate wilfulness.