“Miss Danks,” said Erb, “is the leastest bit lame.” He repeated precisely the message which Rosalind had given him, and Mr. Railton clicked his tongue to intimate impatience. “I’ll call in again later on,” said Erb, “when you’ve finished your little bit, and then I can take you round to where she’s sitting.”
“Now, why in the world,” cried Mr. Railton, throwing a hairbrush on the floor violently, “why in the world can’t people mind their own business? There’s a class of persons going about on this earth, my dear Chippy—”
“I know what you are going to say,” remarked the other approvingly.
“And if I had my will I’d hang the whole shoot of them. I would, honestly.”
“I quite believe you would,” said Chippy.
“And I’d draw and quarter them afterwards.”
“And then burn ’em,” suggested Chippy.
“And then burn ’em.”
“Would you amiable gentlemen like to have the door closed?” asked Erb.
“Put yourself outside first,” recommended Mr. Railton.