"Joe's bad enough in a liver-colored sack, but Dink's unspeakable!"
"I am! What's wrong?"
"Fancy wearing a colored shirt—and such a color! You're gotten up for a boating party—not for a formal lunch. You're unspeakable, Dink, unspeakable! Look at me. I'm a delight—black and white, immaculate, impressive, and absolutely correct."
By this time they had reached the steps.
"Now, don't try to shine your shoes on your trousers. It always shows. Don't stumble or trip when you go in. Don't bump against the furniture. Don't stutter. Don't hold on to your hostess to keep from falling over. And don't, don't shoot your cuffs."
McNab's malicious advice reduced Hungerford to a panic, while only the consciousness of his public importance prevented Stover from bolting as he saw McNab press the button.
"Stand up straight and keep your hands out of your pockets."
"Dopey, I'll wring your neck if you don't stop!"
"Ditto."
"Say something interesting to every girl," continued McNab, in a solemn whisper. "Talk about art or literature."