“The ex-pression, sir, so applied strikes me as blass-phemious, your honour!” Sir John laughed and became thoughtful, seeing which Robert reined his horse respectfully to the rear, and so they rode on for a while in silence, then:
“Robert!”
“Sir?”
“Have you seen Sir Hector recently?”
“Day afore yesterday, sir.”
“How was he?”
“Doleful, sir. ‘Doleful’ is the only word for it! And, sir, he said a thing which, begging his pardon, I felt bound to deny.”
“What was it, Bob?”
“Sir, he sets staring at his horses y-ears, being mounted, sir, and, ‘Robbie,’ says he, and remarkable bitter, sir, ‘Robbie, women are the devil!’ Whereupon, sir, I made so bold as to answer, ‘Saving your presence, Sir Hector—some!’”