"Poor old Johnny!" said Miss Felton sympathetically; "that's the trouble about being a rough diamond and being polished while you wait—makes you sorry you ever came, doesn't it?"
"Now you can smoke a cigar, Mr. Bassity," said Dolly, "and improve your mind listening to us talk!"
"So long as I'm not the subject of it," observed Coal Oil Johnny ruefully.
"Oh, we can't bother about you for always," said Miss Hemingway. "You've had your little turn and must now give way to something mere important!"
"Delighted!" said Mr. Bassity.
"And don't look as though your own cigars were better than papa's," added Dolly.
"But they are," he retorted.
"Will nothing ever prevent your speaking the truth?" cried Miss Sinclair. "There ought to be tracts about the young man who always spoke the truth—and his awful end!"
"Do you want me to listen intelligently or unintelligently?" Mr.
Bassity asked Dolly.
"Oh, any old way," she said. "We don't mind particularly which."