Podb. (savagely). Oh, ta-ta! (To himself.) And that's the fellow who said he wanted to keep out of making friends! How the dickens am I going to get through the time by myself? (To Guide.) Here, that's enough for one day.
Guide. If you vandt to puy som real Prussels lace for your sweedardt, I——
Podb. (grimly). I've no occasion for any at present, thank you.
[He pays and dismisses him, and stands forlornly in the Gallery, while the Imperfectly Educated Daughter goes on spelling out the Catalogue for her Parents' edification.
CHAPTER V.
Culchard has the Best of it.
Scene—Upper deck of the Rhine Steamer, König Wilhelm, somewhere between Bonn and Bingen. The little tables on deck are occupied by English, American, and German tourists, drinking various liquids, from hock to Pilsener beer, and eating veal cutlets. Mr. Cyrus K. Trotter is on the lower deck, discussing the comparative merits of the New York hotels with a fellow countryman. Miss Maud S. Trotter is seated on the afterdeck in close conversation with Culchard. Podbury is perched on a camp-stool in the forward part. Near him a British Matron, with a red-haired son, in a green and black blazer, and a blue flannel nightcap, and a bevy of rabbit-faced daughters, are patronising a tame German Student in spectacles, who speaks a little English.
The British Matron. Oh, you ought to see London; it's our capital—chief city, you know. Very grand—large—four million inhabitants! [With pride, as being in some way responsible for this.
A Rabbit-faced Daughter (with a simper). Quite a little world!