“Nonsense!”
“I am. Don’t take any notice of what I say. I feel as if I must be disagreeable, and say all sorts of things I don’t mean, and all the time I know what a good un you are, sitting in this nasty, stuffy old room, that smells of physic enough to knock you down.”
“I like sitting with you.”
“You can’t, when you might be out with Tavvy and Scood. I’d give anything to go, and you must want to go, but you’re such a good-hearted old chap, to sit there and read for hours, and talk to a poor miserable beggar who’s never going to be well again.”
“Why, you are getting on fast.”
“No, I’m not. I’m sick of these jellies, and beef-teas, and slip-slops. I want some beef, and salmon, and grouse pie, and to get strong again. I say, Maxy, wasn’t I a fool?”
Max was silent.
“You’re too good a chap to say it, but you know it was just out of bounce, and to show off, and it served me right. I say, you’re not put out at what I’ve been saying?”
“Not a bit.”
“Call me a beast, and then I’ll be satisfied.”