Undershell (to himself). If he knew how near I went to getting the poor beast shot! But I needn't mention that now.
Spurrell. I don't say it isn't gratifying to be treated like a swell, but I've got my professional reputation to consider, you know; and if they're going to take up all my time talking about Andromeda——
Undershell (with a start). Andromeda! They have been talking about Andromeda? To you! Then it's you who——
Spurrell. Haven't I been telling you? I should just jolly well think they have been talking about her! So you didn't know my bull's name was Andromeda before, eh? But you seem to have heard of her, too!
Undershell (slowly). I—I have heard of Andromeda—yes.
[He drops into a chair, dazed.
Spurrell (complacently). It's curious how that bitch's fame seems to have spread. Why, even the old Bishop—— But, I say, you're looking rather queer; anything the matter with you, old fellow?
Undershell (faintly). Nothing—nothing. I—I feel a little giddy, that's all. I shall be better presently.
[He conceals his face.
Spurrell (in concern). It was having that basket down on your head like that. Too bad! Here, I'll get you some water. (He bustles about.) I don't know if you're aware of it, old chap, but you're in a regular dooce of a mess!