“Yessir.”
“And we’ll need cheese before our wine. Is there any cheese in the house, or must you send out for some?”
“There’s some in the house, sir.”
“Then put it on the table.”
“Yessir.”
Now was it not, thought Bush, exactly what might be expected of Hornblower that he should push away the half of his huge slice of currant duff unfinished? And he only had a nibble of cheese, hardly enough to clear his palate. He raised his glass, and Bush followed his example.
“To a lovely lady,” said Hornblower.
They drank, and now there was an irresponsible twinkle in Hornblower’s eyes that worried Bush even while he told himself that he was tired of Hornblower’s tantrums. He decided to change the subject, and he prided himself on the tactful way in which he did so.
“To a fortunate evening,” he said, raising his glass in his turn.
“A timely toast,” said Hornblower.