"It is just as well to call things by their proper names," said Lemby, grimly.
"Oh, I'm a thing am I! Don't you think he is very ungallant, Mr. Lemby?"
"I don't think anything about it," snarled the pirate, crossly.
Lady Wyke put up her lorgnette again. "No? You look as though you acted rather than thought. I wonder if your daughter is like you."
"No, she dashed well ain't."
"I thought not. My late husband was a fool, but he was always a gentleman, and would not have cared to marry a girl who used oaths and bad grammar.
"Claudia speaks as well as you do, and is much handsomer and younger," retorted Lemby, spitefully.
"Really! You make me long to see this paragon. What is your Mr. Lemby, as I should like to call," and Lady Wyke took out a set of ivory tablets.
"I don't want you to call, nor does Claudia," growled Lemby, who was exasperated the way in which the woman spoke.
"If you don't want to see me, why are you here, then?"