and the TROTTERS do!

_Culch._ That has its charms, no doubt. But don't you find Miss
PRENDERGAST a mine of information on Italian Art and History?

_Podb._ Don't I just--rather too _deep_ for me, y' know! I say, isn't
Miss TROTTER immense sport in the shops and that!

_Culch._ She is--er--vivacious, certainly. (_PODBURY sighs_.) You seem
rather dull to-night, my dear fellow?

_Podb._ Not dull--a trifle out of sorts, that's all. Fact is, I don't
think Venice agrees with me. All this messing about down beastly
back-courts and canals and in stuffy churches--it _can't_ be healthy,
you know! And they've _no_ drainage. I only hope I haven't caught
something, as it is. I've that kind of sinking feeling, and a general
lowness--_She_ says I lunch too heavily--but I swear it's more than
that!

_Culch._ Nonsense, you're well enough. And why you should feel low,
with all your advantages--in Venice as you are, and in constant
intercourse with a mind adorned with every feminine gift!

_Podb._ Hul-lo! why, I thought you called her a pedantic prig?

_Culch._ If I used such a term at all, it was in no disparaging sense.
Every earnest nature presents an--er--priggish side at times. I know
that even I myself have occasionally, and by people who didn't _know_
me, of course, been charged with priggishness.