“Nonsense! You’re always imagining yourself ill,” snapped Mr. Mortimer.
“My face hurts,” persisted Mr. Bennett.
“You can’t expect a face like that not to hurt,” said Mr. Mortimer.
It appeared only too evident that the two old friends were again on the verge of one of their distressing fallings-out; but Jane Hubbard intervened once more. This practical-minded girl disliked the introducing of side-issues into the conversation. She was there to talk about burglars, and she intended to do so.
“For goodness sake stop it!” she said, almost petulantly for one usually so superior to emotion. “There’ll be lots of time for quarrelling to-morrow. Just now we’ve got to catch these....”
“I’m not quarrelling,” said Mr. Bennett.
“Yes, you are,” said Mr. Mortimer.
“I’m not!”
“You are!”
“Don’t argue!”