“Supposing I were to call upon the Maddisons as your envoy?” suggested Bunker, who, to tell the truth, had already begun to tire of a life of luxurious inaction.
“Pairhaps in a few days we might gonsider it.”
“We have been here for a week already.”
“Ven vould you call?”
“To-morrow, for instance.”
The Baron frowned; but argument was difficult.
“You only jost vill go to see?”
“And report to you.”
“And suppose she is ogly—or not so nice—or so on——zen vill I not see her, eh?”
“But suppose she is tolerable?”