“Where’s the governor?” she asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“My father,” she exclaimed petulantly. “Did you never hear a father called governor before?”
“Oh yes, very often. I believe your governor has gone in search of you.”
“Well, you don’t need to whistle for a dog when he’s at your feet, do you?”
“No, that would be a waste of time.”
“Were you ever in these parts before?”
“These parts?” said I, not quite sure that I had heard her rightly.
“If my father had told me you were deaf, I’d have ordered a speaking-trumpet ready for your visit.”
“I am not deaf. On the contrary, I am afflicted with a most torturing sensibility of hearing. In answer to your question, let me say that I never was in these parts before.”