"What have you been doing to get yourself into this state?" I asked severely.
"Working."
"There you are!" I said. "Something always happens when people take to work. I shall now read you a short lecture on female stamina."
"You're sure you wouldn't prefer to smoke?"
"I can do both."
"Oh, that's not fair."
Joyce Davenant and Sylvia Roden have only two characteristics in common; one is that I am very fond of both, the other, that I can do nothing with either. I capitulated, and selected a cigarette.
"A live dog's worth a good many dead lions," I reminded her as a final shot.
"Are you trying to convince me of the error of my ways?"
"I am not your Suffragan Bishop," I answered in the tone Robert Spencer adopted in telling a surprised House of Commons that he was not an agricultural labourer.