"In both senses, I believe," answered Hamlyn, viciously.
"And what's his name?" said I.
"Really, I don't recollect," said Hamlyn, rather petulantly.
"It doesn't matter," observed Beatrice, attacking her oysters, which had now made their appearance.
"My dear Beatrice," I remonstrated, "you are the most charming creature in the world, but not the only one. You mean that it doesn't matter to you."
"Oh, don't be tiresome. It doesn't matter to you, either, you know. Do go away, and leave me to dine in peace."
"Half a minute," said Hamlyn. "I thought I'd got it just now, but it's gone again. Look here, though; I believe it's one of those long things that end in 'poulos.'"
"Oh, it ends in 'poulos,' does it?" said I, in a meditative tone.
"My dear Charlie," said Beatrice, "I shall end in Bedlam, if you're so very tedious. What in the world I shall do when I'm married, I don't know."
"My dearest!" said Mrs. Hipgrave; and a stage direction might add: "Business with brows, as before."