who had been "practically a gentleman," the sedulous pupil of Coote, the punctilious raiser of hats, was instantly a rebel, an outcast, the hater of everything "stuck up," the foe of Society and the social order of to-day. Here they were among the profits of their robbery, these people who might do anything with the world.…
"No, thenks," he said to a dish.
He addressed a scornful eye at the shoulders of the lady to his left.
Presently he was refusing another dish. He didn't like it—fussed up food! Probably cooked by some foreigner. He finished up his wine and his bread.
"No, thenks."
"No, thenks." …
He discovered the eye of a diner fixed curiously upon his flushed face. He responded with a glare. Couldn't he go without things if he liked?
"What's this?" said Kipps to a great green cone.
"Ice," said the waiter.
"I'll 'ave some," said Kipps.
He seized a fork and spoon and assailed the bombe. It cut rather stiffly. "Come up!" said Kipps, with concentrated bitterness, and the truncated summit of the bombe flew off suddenly, travelling eastward with remarkable velocity. Flop, it went upon the floor a yard away, and for a while time seemed empty.
At the adjacent table they were laughing together.
Shy the rest of the bombe at them?
Flight?
