You begin to go over your dark acquaintances who might owe you money, and can think of none.
You then think of your dark acquaintances to whom you owe money, and are horrified at their number.
"Oh, well," you say, "the whole thing's rubbish, anyway."
Little Miss Banks's eyes dilate with pained astonishment. "Rubbish!"—and she begins to shuffle again.
Tommy (dictating letter to be sent to his wife). "The nurses here are a very plain lot—"
Nurse. "Oh, come! I say! That's not very polite to us."
Tommy. "Never mind, Nurse, put it down. It'll please her!"