"He might. One can never tell what a man will do."
"No, indeed! How Mr. Rodney is trembling! And what an extraordinary state his hat is in!"
"I suppose it's his gardening hat. I am sure Boswell will be ill if he mixes his plants like that. And if he's ill Huskinson will go crazy."
"Now Mr. Rodney is handing Mr. Bush a spade. No, it's something else. What is it?"
"A flail, perhaps, or a spud."
"How they are talking now! I wish I could hear what they're saying. I am certain the Duke's in a passion. Look how he shakes his head and clenches his fist. He's lifting his spud now just as if he were going to hit Mr. Bush. Ah, Chloe, I'm frightened!"
So was the paragon, who was considering where he could run away to, when the duel was stayed for a moment by Mr. Minnidick, who suddenly said:
"Darn it all! look at that there monkey a-feedin' on them there pansies!"
At this speech the duelling party assumed attitudes of distinct surprise, and Mr. Rodney said nervously:
"A moment, Duke—a moment, I beg! What do you say is eating pansies?"