"H'm!" grunted Bill in a colourless voice.
"Not much humbug about them," I remarked.
"I prefer English gals," said Bill. "They can make a joke and take one. As for the French gals, ugh!"
"But they're not all alike," I said. "Some may resent advances in the street, and show a temper when they're kissed over a pump."
"The water from the Les Brebis pumps is very cold," said Pryor.
We could not see Bill's face in the darkness, but we could almost feel our companion squirm.
"'Ave yer got some champagne, Pryor?" he asked with studied indifference. "My froat's like sandpaper."
"Plenty of champagne, matey," said Pryor in a repentant voice. "We're all going to get drunk to-night. Are you?"
"'Course I am," said Bill. "It's very comfy to 'ave a drop of champagne."
"More comfy than a kiss even," said Pryor.