“Said hombre was a li—was unvoracious.”
“Un-ver-acious is the word, old son.”
“What do we care? We don’t own it,” replied Laurie, cheerfully. “Want to go on?”
Ned shook his head slowly. “What time have you got?” he asked.
“What time do you want?” was the flippant response.
With a sigh, Ned pulled back his left sleeve and looked at his watch. “It’s only about a quarter to twelve. We don’t have to get there until six if we don’t want to.”
“I know, but I couldn’t sit on this wall all that time! Besides, what about lunch?”
“I’m not very hungry,” was the sad reply.
“That’s the trouble with having your breakfast late.”