Sir Thomas’s cheeks took on a richer tint of purple. He glared dumbly at the pipe.
“In the excitement of the moment, I suppose——” began Jimmy.
Sir Thomas interrupted. The recollection of his needless panic rankled within him.
“You—you—you——”
“Count ten!”
“You—what you propose to gain by this buffoonery I am at a loss——”
“How can you say such savage things?” protested Jimmy. “Not buffoonery! Wit! Esprit! Flow of soul such as circulates daily in the best society.”
Sir Thomas almost leaped towards the bell. With his finger on it, he turned to deliver a final speech.
“I believe you’re insane,” he cried; “but I’ll have no more of it. I have endured this foolery long enough. I’ll——”
“Just one moment,” said Jimmy. “I said just now that there were other reasons besides the revol—well, pipe—why you should not ring that bell. One of them is that all the servants will be in their places in the audience, so that there won’t be any one to answer it. But that’s not the most convincing reason. Will you listen to one more before getting busy?”