"Well, I shouldn't like to say that. Beauchamp has always been awfully decent with me. 'Pon my soul, he has! ... But he is vexed at you. He says that you ought to be deported."
"Only wish he would deport me! Anyway, he can't till the next boat. And on it he's going to have to deport his wife and Mrs. Thomson and Miss MacAllister. That will hurt him worst of all. Don't you fret. There'll be no deporting by that boat, unless I deport myself."
"You are pressing your case with Miss MacAllister deuced hard.... How is it looking? You should have some results by this time. 'Pon my honour, you should!"
Carteret drained his glass and filled it again.
"The mother's with me. She knows that the heir has only one lung."
"And the father?"
"Says nothing one way or the other. Don't think that he is quite satisfied with my religious principles."
"Bless my soul! Could you blame him?"
"Not if he knew all about them. But, thank the Lord, he doesn't!"
Carteret laughed disagreeably, cynically as he spoke.