"Yes, sir."
"Oh, indeed."
When I saw that he was trifling with me, I determined that he should know it was War. Defiantly I answered:
"Yes, sir. Climbing over. YES, SIR. YES, SIR."
Fillet went white, but he only sucked in his breath and said:
"Oh, indeed. And d-d-do you contemplate coming down?"
I borrowed a favourite word of Penny's. "Ultimately, sir."
"Ah! you do, do you? Well, wh-when you 'ultimately' come down, you will go straight to my study."
"Delighted, sir." The blood rushed to my face as I realised my own impudence, but I was glad that I had said it.
Fillet went his way, and I came down from my railing, combating the sickening certainty that I had made a fool of myself, and determining to believe in the splendour of my attitude and to carry it through to victory. Carry on, Rupert, carry on. Onward, Christian soldiers.