“But I have a frightful temper. Satan only knows what I will do in it yet. Would you not be frightened of me?”
“No fear,” I laughed; “I would defy you.”
“A tomtit might as well defy me,” he said with amusement.
“Well, big as you are, a tomtit having such superior facilities for getting about could easily defy you,” I replied.
“Yes, unless it was caged,” he said.
“But supposing you never got it caged,” I returned.
“Syb, what do you mean?”
“What could I mean?”
“I don’t know. There are always about four or five meanings in what you say.”
“Oh, thanks, Mr Beecham! You must be very astute. I am always thankful when I am able to dish one meaning out of my idle gabble.”