“Do you belong to the bathing party too?” asked Dr. O’Grady. “Or are you a separate and distinct capture, unconnected with the gentleman in the flannel shirt?”
“I don’t bathe,” said Mr. Sanders, “because I have a weak heart and it doesn’t agree with me.”
“Then what were you doing? You must have been doing something which annoyed the Emperor. He may be a bit touched in the head. Most of us are, more or less; but he’s not so mad as to saddle himself with the expense of boarding and lodging a fellow like you unless you have been doing something he dislikes. What were you at?”
“I was mending a bicycle, Mrs. Dick’s bicycle; at least——”
“Who is Mrs. Dick?” asked Dr. O’Grady. “The lady who was bathing?”
“She wasn’t bathing,” said Mr. Dick.
“All right. Don’t get angry. I thought your name might be Dick and that the lady might be your wife.”
“My name is Dick, and she is my wife.”
“I don’t understand you in the least,” said Dr. O’Grady. “Have you got two wives? Has that anything to do with the way you’re going about with nothing on you but your shirt?”
“No, it hasn’t; and I’ve not got two wives.”