Marksman (cordially, but abruptly). Capitally! Good-bye!
Loung. But I say, what a hurry you are in! Can't you stop a minute for a chat?
Marks. Another time, but just now moments are precious.
Loung. But I say, you see I have found myself here—it doesn't take much longer than getting down to Wimbledon.
Marks. Of course it doesn't—whoever said it did? But there, old chap, I must be off!
Loung. You are in a hurry! Ah, we used to have pleasant days in the old place?
Marks. Did we? I daresay we did.
Loung. Why, of course! Grand old days! Don't you remember what fun it used to be decorating your tent; and then, when the ladies came down—which they did nearly all the day long—what larks it was getting them tea and claret-cup?
Marks. Very likely. But we don't have many ladies now, and a good job too—they are a bore.
Loung. Well, you are a chap! Why, how can there be any fun without your sisters, and your cousins, and your maiden aunts?