"Yes, margarine—grease," explained Miss Davies.
"Oh, I see," said John, "er—oil."
I thought seriously for a moment.
"Salad," I said, looking round for approval.
"Splendid," said Miss Davies. "Now you, Arthur."
"I refuse—Oh, all right," he said. "Where have we—'salad'—er—'lobster.'"
Do you catch the idea, as it were? We seemed to fall into the way of it in a moment. Once we had tried we progressed at a tremendous rate. Perhaps we are all very clever, or perhaps it was really easier than it seems in the telling, but looking back the conversation seems to have been simply brilliant.
Well, here's an idea of how we went on, anyway, and you can judge for yourselves (Davies, you remember, has just snapped out "Lobster"):—
Miss Davies (quick as lightning). Shrimp.
John. Whiskers. (A very subtle one, this.)