"Nothing can matter now," said the bereaved mother.
"He's talking himself," said the Demon. "Mercy he's got a new voice ... sounds like another man. He says if we don't beat it out of here by the next boat—he can imagine nothing of less—something or other I can't hear—"
"—consequence," snapped Breede.
"Yes, that's it; and now he's laughing and telling her she's a perfectly flapper."
"Oh, my poor child," murmured the mother.
"Puzzle t' me," said Breede. "I swear I can't make out just how many kinds of a—"
"James!" said his wife sternly, and indicated the presence of several interested foreigners.