"Oh, that's just amusement. What do you work at?"
"I didn't mean that kind of bank!" said Reeve, annoyed. All sense of humour fled him when hammerlocked with Bacchus. At such psychological moments, too, he became indiscreet. And now he proposed to Clive an excursion amid what he termed the "high lights of Olympus," which the latter discouraged.
"All right then. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give a Byzantine party! I know a little girl—"
"Oh, shut up!"
"She's a fine little girl, Clive—"
"This is no hour to send out invitations."
"Why not? Her name is Catharine—"
"Dry up!"