Ted grew scarlet.
"I—I believe I left out the point, acushlum!"
"Please tell it me!"
He did—laboriously, and with none of the dry humour that usually distinguished his stories.
Nell looked at him, heroically retelling his poor little anecdote, and heroically eating his bread and rank butter, and she burst out laughing.
"Oh, poor Ted, do give K.K. the rest of that crust!"
"Should think it would poison her," said Denis, moodily.
"I like it," declared Ted, with obstinate mendacity. "You're all so particular!"
And he ate it down to the very last crumb.
After lunch Denis went off to the bank, and Ted went with him.