"And you think that the wine going the wrong way round the table gave your aunt a stroke?" inquires Jim, with an irritating air of asking for information.
Mrs. Byng reddens slightly.
"I think nothing of the kind; I draw no inference; I only state a fact; it is a very unlucky thing to send the wine round the wrong way: if you had not spent your life among grizzly bears and cannibals you would have known it too!"
"There are no cannibals in the Rocky Mountains," corrects Jim quietly; and then they both laugh, and recommence their talk on a more friendly footing.
"I am not at all happy about Willy."
"No?"
"It is not his health so much—his colour is good, and his appetite not bad."
"Except the Fat Boy in 'Pickwick,' I never heard of anyone who had a better."
"But he is not himself; there is something odd about him!"
"Indeed!"