“Don’t believe they’ll come at all. A lot of Zionists I’ve heard of are in a blue funk that they’ll be grabbed against their will and carried kicking aboard the Good Ship Jerusalem.”
“Set upon by a press-gang, and made to fag for us; for me, David, King of Zion——”
“King, eh? You’re going it!”
“You shall come and be my Grand Vizier, O Richard.”
“That’s the Arabian Nights. Getting mixed, aren’t you?”
“The deadly habit of accuracy is notably confined to the unimaginative.”
Richard grunted.
“With you beside me is like taking a stroll with a portable farmyard.”
“You haven’t bought anything for your mother yet.”
“I must get some large-sized silver frames. I was photographed to surprise her about a month ago—they’ve turned out rather well. Beastly nuisance—but she fretted so, having none of Con. He never would let himself be taken.... So she shall have me in half a dozen different positions, bless her, just in case—not that she’ll care about the whole lot like the one rotten little snapshot of Con that she’s always poring over ... but still....”