“Indeed,” continued she, without appearing to notice his emotion, “our people do not know how to eat.”
“Indeed, I think they acquit themselves admirably,” said I.
“And do you call that eating?” said she. “What must the English think of us when they see us act in this manner? Oh! I wish dinner were over! Are the gentlemen not already leaving the table?”
“Yes, Miss ***; those, probably, whose business will not allow them to stop for pudding.”
“Oh, I did not wish to deprive you of your enjoyment; I would merely tax your politeness with the request of accompanying me to the door.”
“I know no greater happiness than that of obeying your commands,” said I, doing as I was bid. “I shall have the honour of joining you by-and-by in the parlour.”
“Pray, don’t let me interfere with your favourite amusements. I know you like to take a glass of wine and smoke a cigar after dinner.”
“I can assure you,” said I, “I do not smoke at all.”
“What! you don’t smoke? For mercy’s sake! I hope you don’t chew?”
“I do not use tobacco in any shape.”