"Well—um—if a stranger had been here at tea to-day he would scarcely have thought that the engaged couple——"
"Go on, this is delightful; it's absolutely bank-holidayish—the engaged couple—go on."
"Were you and I."
"You mean you and me?"
"Yes."
"The behaviour of 'engaged couples' in decent society is, I believe, pretty much the same as our behaviour has been, and I hope will be. How would you have it? Would you like to walk about, I clinging to your arm, and you playing a mouth-organ? Ought we to exchange hats with each other? Shall I call you Choly and put ice down your neck at dinner? Ought we to hire a brake and go on a bean feast? I wish you would instruct me. I hate to appear gauche, and I hate not to do the correct thing."
"Vulgarity is always painful to me," said Mr Bevan, "but senseless vulgarity is doubly so."
"Thanks, your compliments are charming."
"I was not complimenting you, I simply——"