"Twenty-eight."
"That's awfully old. I'm sixteen," she answered, decisively.
"That's good. What next?"
"What's a minion?" she asked. She was trying to deploy her forces for her premeditated attack.
"A minion?" he repeated, with a shade of surprise. "Oh, a minion's a fellow who licks the boots of the one above him and kicks the man below to even up."
Élise looked bewildered.
"What does that mean?"
"Oh, I see." Firmstone's smile broadened. "You're literal-minded. According to Webster, a minion is a man who seeks favours by flattery."
"Webster!" she exclaimed. "Who's Webster?"
"He's the man who wrote a lexicon."