“If you weren’t a lazy swine you wouldn’t let Vivian haul furniture about just because you think you feel a draught!” said Bart, returning to his chair, and wresting the plate of splits away from Ingram.
“Ah, but I had an idea that your chivalry would be stirred, you see,” smiled Eugene. “Of course, I wouldn’t have risked it with Con or Ingram, but I have often observed that you have a nice nature, beloved. Now I’ll reward you by divulging a piece of news which I rather fancy will make you view the prospect of Clay’s arrival in our midst as a wholly minor ill. Our respected parent has taken it into his head to draw Aubrey back into the fold!"
“What?” demanded Bart, horrified.
“He won’t come,” said Conrad confidently. “Not enough scope for Aubrey in these parts.”
“Yes, but he’s broke,” Bart pointed out. “Oh, I say, but it’s too thick! Honestly, Aubrey puts me right off my feed!”
“Bet you he doesn’t come,” Conrad insisted.
“You ass, he’s bound to come down for the old man’s birthday!” Bart reminded him. “Even Aubrey wouldn’t miss that! Then, if he’s broke, I’ll lay you any odds he stays. Oh, Ray, is it true that Aubrey’s coming home?”
Raymond, who had just come into the room through the door at the far end, replied harshly: “Not if I have anything to say to it.”
“As you won’t have anything to say to it -’ began Ingram sarcastically.
Bart cut in on this. “Well, say everything you can think of, will you? Damn it all, we can’t have Aubrey here, corrupting our young minds! Think of Con and me!”