Dick.
I was going on with the thread of my observations, which you interrupted with the entirely obvious remark that the tinned meat was getting mouldy.
Alec.
I apologise profusely. Pray go on!
Dick.
I was about to observe that even in England you will eat the most carefully ordered meal with an indifference which is an outrage to decency. Indeed, you pay less attention to it than here, because at all events you do notice that the meat is mouldy. But if any one gives you a good dinner, you notice nothing. I've given him priceless port, Doctor, and he drank it as though it were cooking sherry.
Doctor.
I confess it is lamentable. But why is it a source of anxiety to you?
Dick.
What on earth is to happen to him in his old age?