"Cooper ought not to have taken you," said Herbert Sims for the fiftieth time.
"He must ha' seen you like it dozens o' times before," said Ted Drill, who, in his determination not to be outdone by Mr. Sims, was not displaying his usual judgment. "Why didn't he take you then? That's what you ought to have asked the magistrate."
"I don't understand you," said Mr. Gunnill, with an air of cold dignity.
"Why," said Mr. Drill, "what I mean is—look at that night, for instance, when——"
He broke off suddenly, even his enthusiasm not being proof against the extraordinary contortions of visage in which Mr. Gunnill was indulging.
"When?" prompted Selina and Mr. Sims together. Mr. Gunnill, after first daring him with his eye, followed suit.
"That night at the Crown," said Mr. Drill, awkwardly. "You know; when you thought that Joe Baggs was the landlord. You tell 'em; you tell it best. I've roared over it."
"I don't know what you're driving at," said the harassed Mr. Gunnill, bitterly.
"H'm!" said Mr. Drill, with a weak laugh. "I've been mixing you up with somebody else."
Mr. Gunnill, obviously relieved, said that he ought to be more careful, and pointed out, with some feeling, that a lot of mischief was caused that way.