“Not very. Bless you, I’m pretty well used to ill-treatment now. You’ve only rubbed the pile of my collar the wrong way, just as that awkward black rascal would brush me.”
“Bless me! I think I know your voice.”
“Somehow, I think I know yours.”
“You ain’t Colonel Tomkins, are you?”
“No.”
“Nor Count Castor?”
“No.”
“Then I’m in error.”
“No you’re not. I was the Colonel once; then I became the Count by way of loan; and then I came here—as he said by mistake.”
“Why, my dear fellow, I’m delighted to speak to you. How did you wear?”