I--er--mumble--mumble--don't exactly-- [_Here a Waiter offers him a dish
containing layers of soles disguised under thick brown sauce;_ CULCHARD
_mangles it with an ineffectual spoon. The Waiter, with pitying contempt,
"Tut-tut-tut! Pesce Signore--feesh!"_ CULCH. _eventually lands a sole in a
very damaged condition._

_Podb._ (_to Miss P._) No--not this side--just opposite. (_Here_ CULCH.,
_in fingering a siphon which is remarkably stiff on the trigger, contrives
to send a spray across the table and sprinkle_ Miss PRENDERGAST, _her
brother, and_ PODBURY, _with impartial liberality_). _Now_ don't you see
him? As playful as ever, isn't he! Don't try to make out it was an
accident, old fellow. Miss PRENDERGAST knows you! [_Misery of_ CULCHARD.

_Miss P._ (_graciously_). Pray don't apologise, Mr. CULCHARD; not the least
harm done! You must forgive me for not recognising you before, but you know
of old how provokingly shortsighted I am, and I've forgotten my glasses.

_Culch._ (_indistinctly_). I--er--not at all ... most distressed, I assure
you ... really no notion--

_Miss T._ (_in an undertone_). Say, you _know_ her, then? And you never let
on!

_Culch._ Didn't I? Oh, surely! yes, I've--er--_met_ that lady. (_With
grateful deference to_ Mr. BELLERBY, _who has just addressed him._) You are
an Art-Collector? Indeed? And--er--have you--er--?

_Mr. B._ I've the three finest Bodgers in the kingdom, Sir, and there's a
Gubbins--a _Joe_ Gubbins, mind you, not _John_--that's hanging now in the
morning-room of my place in the country that I wouldn't take a thousand