Culch. That's childishness, my dear fellow; you ought to talk about it—it will do you good. And really, I'm not at all sure, after all, that we have not both of us had a fortunate escape. One is very apt to—er—overrate the fascinations of persons one meets abroad. Now neither of those two was quite——
Podb. (desperately). Take care! I swear I'll pitch you out of this gondola, unless you stop that jabber!
Culch. (with wounded dignity). I am willing to make allowance for your state of mind, Podbury, but such an expression as—as jabber, applied to my—er—well-meant attempts at consolation, and just as I was about to propose an arrangement—really, it's too much! The moment we reach the hotel, I will relieve you from any further infliction from (bitterly) what you are pleased to call my "jabber"!
Podb. (sulkily). Very well—I'm sure I don't care! (To himself.) Even old Culchard won't have anything to do with me now! I must have somebody to talk to—or I shall go off my head! (Aloud.) I say, old chap! (No answer.) Look here—it's bad enough as it is without our having a row! Never mind anything I said.
Culch. I do mind—I must. I am not accustomed to hear myself called a—a jabberer!
Podb. I didn't call you a jabberer—I only said you talked jabber. I—I hardly know what I do say, when I'm like this. And I'm deuced sorry I spoke—there!
Culch. (relaxing). Well, do you withdraw jabber?
Podb. Certainly, old chap. I like you to talk, only not—not against Her, you know! What were you going to propose?
Culch. Well, my idea was this. My leave is practically unlimited—at least, without vanity, I think I may say that my Chief sufficiently appreciates my services not to make a fuss about a few extra days. So I thought I'd just run down to Florence and Naples, and perhaps catch a P. & O. at Brindisi. I suppose you're not tied to time in any way?
Podb. (dolefully). Free as a bird! If the Governor had wanted me back in the City, he'd have let me know it. Well?