over coffee that they faced it, and brandy was their aid.
"Look here, Booby," said Jimmy, after he and Melba had spent a silent five minutes mentally egging each other on, "you ought to know the truth, it 's only fair. We made your father sign."
Algernon Sawby Leonidas Brassington had a sudden retrospective vision of his father, and he could make no sense out of the words. "You made him?" he said, flushing a little. "Cursed if you did! He 'd make you more like!"
An illogical phrase enough, but one sufficiently full of meaning.
"Possibly," said Jimmy, with the insulted dignity of a person who has dined. "If you don't want to hear about it you needn't."
"Shut up, Jimmy," said Melba diplomatically.
He tried to make his high and now uncertain voice kind as he went on to the younger Mr. Brassington—
"You see, Booby, it's like this. Th' was a lillel comprulsion—y' know. There was scene, wasn't there, Jimmy?"
"Oh, yes, scene right 'nough!" said Jimmy.
