“Bully!” said Mrs. Atkinson Brown, sitting down with a flop.
Herbert addressed himself to Mr. Hargreaves.
“Draw up your chair, sir. You will have a cigar, I am sure.”
He offered him one from a newly opened box. Mr. Hargreaves took one, smelled it, and then put it back.
“No, thanks,” he said. “I will have one of my own, if I may. Sure the ladies don’t mind?”
“Oh, they like it,” said Herbert.
“We have to pretend to,” said Mrs. Hargreaves.
“Well, if you don’t, you ought to,” said her husband. “It’s a man’s privilege.”
Mrs. Hargreaves smiled icily.
“One of his many privileges.”