His lordship's sunny smile broadened, and a dreamy look came into his eyes.
"Absolutely!" he replied. "I started with a spruce spoonful of Julienne and passed on by way of a breezy half-lobster on the shell to about as upstanding a young Long Island duckling as I have ever bitten."
"Be quiet!" said Mrs. Waddington, shaken to the core. The man's conversation seemed to her utterly revolting.
"Finishing up with...."
"Will you be quiet! I have no desire to hear the details of your repast."
"Oh, sorry! I thought you had."
"You have been away long enough to have eaten half-a-dozen dinners. However, as it happens, you are not too late. I have something to show you."
"That's good. Moral turpitude pretty strong on the wing, eh?"
"A few moments ago," said Mrs. Waddington, leading the way to the roof, "I observed a young woman enter what appears to be some kind of outdoor sleeping-porch attached to George Finch's apartment, and immediately afterwards I heard her voice in conversation with George Finch within."
"Turpy," said his lordship, shaking his head reprovingly. "Very turpy."