‘You mind what the Mater says, Reggie.’
‘What was Her Excellency pleased to remark?’
‘She says you’re not to play the elephas mas gigas ass. Hello, Guv’; good mornin’.’
His Excellency came in, tall and débonnaire, and sat down to breakfast. After him came his private secretary, a pale and anxious young man, who said little, and opened an egg as if he expected to find an important despatch inside it.
‘Any news, Reggie?’ said the Governor, cheerfully rubbing his large white hands together.
‘Fry’s hurt his finger.’
‘Bad luck to it!’
‘Well, Sir Henry,’ said Mr. Cato, beaming away, ‘I’m going to have a good talk with you after breakfast about Prince Dwala.’
‘Too busy, too busy, my dear Sir. You talk it over with Mr. Batts; he knows all about everything.’
The private secretary looked up darkly, and gave a dry nod at Mr. Cato.