'Why,' said Mark, 'the fact is, I——'
'Eh, what?' said the elder. 'Wait a minute—there's that impident fellow back again! I thought I'd seen the last of him. Here, you sir, didn't I send you up for a flogging?'
'I—I believe you did, sir,' said Langton with extreme deference.
'Well, why ain't you getting that flogging—eh, sir? No impidence, now—just tell me, why ain't you being flogged? You ought to be in the middle of it now!'
'Well, you see,' said Mark, 'he's one of my boys——'
'I don't care whose boy he is,' said the other, testily; 'he's an impident fellow, sir.'
'I don't think he is, really,' said Mark.
'D'ye know what he did, then? Came whooping and shouting and hullabalooing into my room, for all the world as if it was his own nursery, sir. He's always doing it!'
'I never did it before,' protested Langton, 'and it wasn't my fault this time.'
'Wasn't your fault! You haven't got St. Vitus' dance, have you? I never heard there were any Tarantula spiders here. You don't go dancing into the Doctor's room, do you? He'll give you a dancing lesson!' said the old gentleman, sitting down again to chuckle, and looking very like Mr. Punch.