"This is different," said Linda, a little sulkily. She was sorry she had spoken, but Sir Bryson would not let the matter drop so easily.
"How different?" he inquired.
"Oh! up here things seem to fall away from you," said Linda vaguely. "You get down to rock bottom."
"Your metaphors are mixed, my dear," said Sir Bryson pleasantly. "I don't understand you."
"It doesn't matter," she said indifferently.
"Now, for my part, I think this the most agreeable sight in the world," Sir Bryson went on. "All these people working to make us comfortable, and dinner coming on presently. It rests me. Fancy seeing one's dinner cooked before one's eyes. I hope Jull has washed his hands. I didn't see him do it."
Sir Bryson had no intention of making a joke, but Mrs. Worsley laughed.
"Speaking of dinner," continued Sir Bryson, "I hope there won't be any awkwardness about our guide."
"Jack Chanty?" said Linda quickly. "What about him?"
"My dear! I wish you wouldn't be so free with his vulgar name! Do you suppose he will expect to sit down with us?"