"Room!" he cried, pointing to the vacant half.
"Throw some coal on, Frank, it's chilly. By George, you look cold yourself."
"Cold! I'm frozen!" Lawson's laugh was not the most pleasant thing to hear.
"Where have you been? Land alive, look at him!"
"Shut up!" Lawson flung his Prince Albert over the books, crushing the chrysanthemum he had fastened in his button-hole so carefully earlier in the evening.
"Game?" he queried.
"I should say so, trot 'em out!" There was a box of cigars on the mantel. He lit one, the rest were already smoking.
"Helped ourselves, you see!"
"Anything else?"
"Listen to him!"