“Good Heavens! have I been disputing that with you?” I almost shout.
“What else?” he asks, astonished.
“Why . . . I . . .” I really cannot speak, I am so annoyed. I've lost a whole morning, and whole day, perhaps, and a jolly party, and—and—and—
“What's the matter?” asks Mrs. Boodels, handing her instrument of torture to the Professor. “What does he say?”
“He says—” commences the Professor . . . .
Je me sauve! (Exit myself, hurriedly.) I rush to the stable.
“James! Where are they gone?”
“They said, sir, as they were gone to the meet. 'Ounds is out near 'ere.”
“GONE TO THE MEET.”