‘When’s the execution, Dick?’ said Reggie, helping himself to ham.
‘Half-past ten, old man; you’ve lots of time.’
‘The usual tortures, I suppose?’
‘Just the usual. The Mater’s been up for hours sharpenin’ the spikes of the rack.’
‘Getting rusty, I suppose?’
‘Not they! They got blunted over all those land-tax defaulters last week.’
Helen, the youngest girl, tossed her long hair over her cheeks and exploded with laughter.
‘Soyez gentille, Hélène,’ said Mademoiselle: ‘les jeunes filles bien élevées ne rient pas à table.’
Mr. Cato adjusted his spectacles, and stared with horror from face to face.
‘What nonsense are those boys talkin’ down there?’ said Lady Crampton. ‘For Heaven’s sake don’t choke, Helen! Dick, you naughty boy, do try to behave.’