"Oh, oh!" says Manuel, and he began pulling vexedly at his little gray beard, "and does one obligation beget another as fast as this! Now whatever would you have me do?"
"Obviously, you must get troops from King Ferdinand, and drive that awful Asmund out of Poictesme."
"Dear me!" says Manuel, "but what a simple matter you make of it! Shall I attend to it this afternoon?"
"Now, Manuel, you speak without thinking, for you could not possibly re-conquer all Poictesme this afternoon—."
"Oh!" says Manuel.
"No, not single-handed, my darling. You would first have to get troops to help you, both horse and foot."
"My dearest, I only meant—"
"—Even then, it will probably take quite a while to kill off all the Northmen."
"Niafer, will you let me explain—"
"—Besides, you are miles away from Poictesme. You could not even manage to get there this afternoon."