"What did you mean by 'impossible,' Peter?"
"I was—thinking merely."
"Then I wish you wouldn't think so suddenly next time."
"I beg your pardon."
"Nor be so very emphatic about it."
"No," said I, "er—no." Hereupon, deigning to receive her pen back again, she recommenced her figuring, while I began to fill my pipe.
"Two shillings for tea!"
"Excellent!" said I.
"I do wish," she sighed, raising her head to shake it reproachfully at me, "that you would be a little more sensible."
"I'll try."