“No, of course not. I wish you had come, though.”
“Thank you! But you speak in riddles, my little Samson. What’s all over now, and what fellow can’t always marry the woman he wants? Speak out, small sage!”
“I say, Glen, I didn’t make myself.”
“True, O king!”
“’Tisn’t my fault I’m small.”
“True.”
“You do chaff me so about my size.”
“For the last time: now proceed, and don’t lisp and drawl. Who’s who? as Bailey says.”
“I thought I told you before about my sisters?”
“Often: that you have two pretty sisters—one married and one free.”