"Damn it," snapped Sam, "do you mean that my countenance resembles a gargoyle? If you do, say so in English."
"No, no, no," said Annan soothingly,—"I've seen more awful mugs—married mugs, too. What woman has done woman may do again. Buck up! Beauty and the beast is no idle jest—"
"I'll punch you good and plenty," began Sam wrathfully, but Annan fled, weak with laughter.
"There's no vainer man than an ugly one!" he called back, and slammed the door to escape a flight of paint brushes hurled by a maddened man.
"I'll go! By jinks, I'll go, anyway!" he exclaimed; "and I don't care what she thinks of my face … only I think I'll take Annan with me—just for company—or—dummy bridge on the way up…. Harry!" he shouted.
Annan cautiously appeared, ready for rapid flight.
"Aw come on in! My face suits me. Besides, thank Heaven I've got a reputation back of it; but yours breaks the speed laws. Will you go up there with me—like a man?"
"Where?"
"To Estwich?"
"When?" inquired Annan, sceptically.