'Mith Eve, pleath, there'th a gentleman downstairth to thee you. Here'th hith card.'
Julian took it.
'Eve, it's Malteios.'
That drowsy voice, indifferent and melodious,—
'Tell him to go away, Nana; tell him I am resting.'
'But, dearie, what'll your mother thay?'
'Tell him to go away, Nana.'
'He'th the Prime Minithter,' Nana began doubtfully.
'Eve!' Julian said in indignation.
'But, Mith Eve, you know he came latht week and you forgot he wath coming and you wath out.'