“Vell, vat shall ve do?” he asked.
“Let us come first to Liverpool Street Station, if you don’t mind, Baron,” his friend suggested. “I have something in the cloak-room there I want to pick up.”
“My dear Bonker, I shall go vere you vill; bot remember [pg 96] I vant to-day more instrogtion and less entertainment.”
“You wish to see the practical side of English life?”
“Yah—zat is, yes.”
Mr Bunker smiled.
“Then I must entertain myself.”
As they drove down he was in his wittiest humour, and the Baron, in spite of his desire for instruction, was more charmed with his friend than ever.
“Vat fonny zing vill you do next, eh?” he asked, as they walked arm-in-arm into the station.
“I am no more the humourist, my dear Baron,—I shall endeavour to edify you.”