"Search him! Search him!"
"Don't ass, O.B.!"
"Why did you run away like that?" queried Molly eagerly.
"If it weren't Christmas morning, I should be deciding to be offended," Nell declared.
"I'm awfully sorry. I've to go to my aunt's, you know."
"Aren't you in rather a sudden complexity of hurry?" Denis inquired. "That's a favourite remark of an old Irishwoman I know!"
"I am rather, old chap! Er—so sorry—"
"Here comes the postman!" squealed Molly, flinging open the door. Ted hurled himself through it, leapt down the steps, and with a vague flourish of his hat turned to the left and disappeared. The postman laughed as he handed package after package, letter after letter, into various eager hands outstretched for them. "You'll lighten my load a good deal, sir!"
"Happy Christmas, postman!"
"Same to you, miss."