"Hold on!" Philip shouted after her concernedly.
"What's the matter with you, cock?"
"What else have you got? I won't have ham!"
"What about fish and fried, saucy?"
"Thank you!" Philip muttered gratefully.
"What do you mean by it?" exclaimed Harry indignantly. "What do you want to spoil the show for?"
"You can call me a blooming prig, if you like, and be blowed! I think ham's overdoing it, that's all! It's not playing the game!"
"Don't be a kid! What's your objection to the miserable animal? I thought you'd got over all that!"
"I thought so too, but I think a chap can choose another sort of day for ham! What's the good of piling it on like this?"
"Do you mean," asked Harry, "that you've just shoved your head out of the burrow of superstitions, like a rabbit, and are going to dive down again, scared? I thought you were more consistent than that. Personally I should prefer beef, but I'm sacrificing my inclinations precisely because ham is a symbol."