Charles, I have no objection to your sitting in my arm-chair and putting your feet on my table. I am willing to ignore the fact that you smoke my cigars and drink my whiskey.
Blenkinsop.
[Sipping.] You show excellent judgment, Charles. The whiskey’s capital.
Charles.
[Imperturbably.] Pot-still, sir. Fifteen years in bottle.
Gerald.
I can even bear with equanimity that you should read my letters. For the most part they’re excessively tedious, and they will only show you how deplorable is the education of the upper classes. But I must insist on your not reading my paper till I’ve done with it.
Charles.
I’m very sorry, sir. I thought there was no objection.
Gerald.