“Oh,” said I. I didn’t want to encourage him.
He pulled it out, staring at me all the time. Then he slipped down off the seat and brought it up to me.
“Open it,” he said.
“Open it yourself,” said I.
“I can’t,” said he. “Open it! Open it!”
“All right, keep your temper,” said I, and I opened it. A beastly blunt thing it was. “There you are; take it.”
“I want to sit beside you,” he said, when he’d got it.
“Do you? I don’t want you. Haven’t you got all the rest of the carriage?”
“Lift Tommy up,” he whined.
I’d a good mind to chuck him out of the window.