“I didn’t come to see the show,” Will contradicted, feeling vaguely baffled.
“Of course not, being Sunday. But what did you come for? Cut the cackle and come to the ’osses.”
“I will,” he said eagerly. “I hear you want to buy one.”
Mr. Flippance swung round, chair and all. “Then you have come on business!”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Well, have you got a horse?”
“No, but I could get one.”
“And you don’t call that business!”
“I didn’t mean to—!” Will was getting embarrassed. “It just slipped out. What I want to ask of you is——”
“Where the devil is that waiter?” broke in the Showman, reaching for the cord again.