"The eldest there--Sophy's her name--and don't judge from
appearances; the family diet is not hardware."

"Hush, sir! you must not be rude. That reminds me that I ought to go
and speak to them."

"You won't get anything out of them. If you want a subject, though,
I'll give you the straight tip--lambs. I've heard them talk about
lambs by the hour. Say they are nice and soft and woolly: that'll
draw them out."

"You are a great quiz, I perceive."

"No, really, now, Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys."

"But, really yes, Mr. Buzza. I shall have to cure you, I see, before
I can trust my husband in your company."

She rose and left him to his flutter of pleased excitement. Oh, Sam!
Sam! To fall from innocence was bad enough, but to fall thus easily!

In a few moments and with charming tact, Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys had
drawn the Misses Buzza into a lively conversation; had told Sophy of
some new songs; and had even promised them all some hints on the very
latest gowns, before Sam Buzza, weary of silence, called across the
room--

"I say, dad, what do you think is the news about the seedy-looking
fellow you treated by mistake to all that speechifying?"