The three Portuguese stared at Edward in exaggerated reproach and bashfulness.
(“And att midnight there wass a cry made be-hold de brid-a-groom cometh go yee—”)
“Very well. Come straight back,” said Edward.
(“Less thah bee no eno for uss and—”)
“Oh, stop, Frazer,” implored Edward. “Next boy, read.”
The boys on Frazer’s right and left began reading in concert with furious glances at each other.
“Not both; the Indian boy.”
“I am Parsee,” said the boy, a small nervous looking child. “My name iss Bannerjee.”
“Please excuse us leave the room, sah,” said the first of a line of big boys filing past Edward’s desk towards the door.