“Ever so easy in your case,” said I.
Alas! it fell on perfectly deaf ears.
CHAPTER XIV
In which I am more Sinned against than Sinning
WHILE eight men were scrubbing themselves in the bath-room prior to the dinner bell, their behaviour, as is only too usual when eight men are trying to do the same thing at the same time, was not too lady-like. Their talk also was breezy and of a rather penetrating kind.
“If Brightside’s not here to-night with intent,” said Elphinstone, in his slow, clerical sing-song, in the middle of a free fight round a bath-towel, “you can call me American. I’ve been looking at Brightside, and I’m certain that he meditates making a silly ass of himself.”
“Do you, Brightside?” I cried, with deep feeling.
“Oh, damn,” said the Optimist coarsely. But his complexion was becoming a fine tawny.
“He’s going through with it to-night though, if it kills him,” said the wicked little parson.
“More likely to kill her,” said Carteret.
“Matter of opinion,” said the little parson: “but one can’t help respecting Brightside. No earthly and all that, he knows, but I’m certain that he’s going to cause Grace to become a sister to him.”