Culch. Was I amused? (The vehicle gives another tremendous lurch.) Really, this is too horrible!
Podb. (with secret enjoyment.) We're right enough, if the horses don't happen to stumble. That off-leader isn't over sure-footed—did you see that? (Culch. shudders.) But what's the joke about Miss Prendergast?
Culch. (irritably). Oh, for Heaven's sake, don't bother about that now! I've something else to think about. My goodness, we were nearly over that time! What are you looking at?
Podb. (who has been leaning forward). Only one of the traces—they've done it up with a penny ball of string, but I dare say it will stand the strain. You aren't half enjoying the view, old fellow.
Culch. Yes, I am. Magnificent!—glorious!—isn't it?
Podb. Find you see it better with your eyes shut? But I say, I wish you'd explain what you were sniggering at.
Culch. Take my advice, and don't press me, my dear fellow; you may regret it if you do!
Podb. I'll risk it. It must be a devilish funny joke to tickle you like that. Come, out with it!
Culch. Well, if you must know, I was laughing.... Oh, he'll never get those horses round in.... I was—er—rather amused by your evident assumption that I must have been rejected by Miss Prendergast.
Podb. Oh, was that it? And you're nothing of the kind, eh?