Mr. Britling saw it through,
That was more than I could do!
Central, ring up Heaven’s bells—
Get me God, for H. G. Wells.
Alice appeared shocked at this levity.
“You should not be so Leviticus,” she said, “even in a good cause.”
“I don’t mean to be irrelevant,” replied the wooden man. “I was only reviewing Mr. Wells in rhyme. Would you like to hear the next verse? It’s about Amy Lowell.”
“I don’t believe I’d better,” answered Alice, nervously. “Is she anything like Daisy Ashford?”
“They’re not exactly as like as twins,” admitted the wooden man. “Your Daisy is rather—er—slender, is she not?”