“That feeling will pass, giving way to one of devout thankfulness. I know. I’ve been there. After all ... Wilhelmina Bennett ... what is she? A rag and a bone and a hank of hair!”
“She is nothing of the kind,” said Sam, revolted.
“Pardon me,” said Eustace firmly, “I speak as an expert. I know her and I repeat, she is a rag and a bone and a hank of hair!”
“She is the only girl in the world, and, owing to your idiotic behaviour, I have lost her.”
“You speak of the only girl in the world,” said Eustace blithely. “If you want to hear about the only girl in the world, I will tell you. A week ago I was on the Subway in New York....”
“I’m going to bed,” said Sam brusquely.
“All right. I’ll tell you while you’re undressing.”
“I don’t want to listen.”
“A week ago,” said Eustace Hignett, “I will ask you to picture me seated after some difficulty in a carriage in the New York Subway. I got into conversation with a girl with an elephant gun.”
Sam revised his private commination service in order to include the elephant gun.