"I think it's delicious," said Fanny, "and I don't mind nightmares. They're rather fun—when they are over, and you wake up and find yourself safe in bed."
"Well, you'll have some fun to-night," grunted James. "The person who cooked this atrocity ought to be made sleep with the person who eats it."
"James, you need not be vulgar," said his sister.
"What's vulgar?"
"Your remark."
"Boffins, fill Miss Lambert's glass—let's change the subject. This champagne is abominably iced—give me some Burgundy."
"James!"
"Well?"
"Burgundy!"
"Well, what about Burgundy?"