Alfred, rather surprised, perched himself upon the edge of a chair. Fishpingle puffed at his pipe. After a moment or two, he removed it from his lips, saying abruptly:
“So you want to marry Prudence?”
Alfred betrayed astonishment.
“The lil’ besom told ’ee?”
Fishpingle shook his head.
“How did ’ee find out?”
“Never mind that! The powers of observation, my lad, so singularly lacking in you, are sharpened to a finer edge in me.”
In dealing with his subordinates, Fishpingle’s copious vocabulary and choice of English never failed to astonish and confound. It was known, of course, that he had been educated above his station because his mother had been the favourite maid of Sir Geoffrey’s grandmother, and later he had served as valet to his present master. But even these well-established facts were inadequate to the bucolic intelligence. A spice of mystery remained. Fishpingle ended on a sharper note:
“You want her?”
Alfred leant forward, speaking very emphatically: