“I’m a beggar boy,” he announced succinctly.
“A beggar boy!” shrilled Molly. She was frankly amazed.
Antony nodded. He was experiencing a kind of gloomy joy at her astonishment.
Molly gazed at him. Then:
“Indeed you’re not at all,” she snorted incredulously.
“I am,” said Antony, gloomily cheerful.
Molly cogitated, puzzled. Then her fertile imagination leaped to the solution. Of course it was make-believe!
“What fun,” cried she, on a top note of pleasure. “But what are you sitting there for if you are? Beggars go along the roads and beg.”
Antony looked alarmed.
“Oh, but perhaps I needn’t begin just yet,” he protested.