"You are not going to make punch in this great thing?"
"I am," said Fanny, returning with a bottle in each hand and one under her arm.
"Go on," said Charles resignedly. "May I smoke?"
"Of course, smoke. Open me this champagne."
"You are not going to put champagne in punch?"
"Everything is good in punch. Father learned how to make it in Moscow, when he was dining with the Hussars there. After dinner a huge bowl was brought in, and everything went in—champagne, whisky, brandy, all the fruit from the dessert; then they set it on fire, and drank it, burning."
"Has your father ever made punch like that?"
"No, but now I've got him away, I am going to try."
Pop went the champagne cork, and the golden wine ran creaming into the bowl.