“I have something to say to you.”
“I know. I said ‘What?’”
“Oh, I thought you didn’t hear what I said.”
“Yes, I heard what you said, all right, but not what you were going to say.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Right-ho.”
So that was straightened out. Nevertheless, instead of proceeding she took time off once more. She stood twisting the fingers and scratching the gravel with her foot. When finally she spoke, it was to deliver an impressive boost:
“Bertie, do you read Tennyson?”
“Not if I can help.”
“You remind me so much of those Knights of the Round Table in the ‘Idylls of the King’.”