As to women, I'm jolly well on my guard."

"You're as bad as old Perigal, every bit."

"But one has to be. Have some of these strawberries?"

"No, thank you."

"You ate 'em fast enough at Mrs What's-her-name's."

"It was different then."

"Yes, wasn't it? Take 'em away."

These last words were spoken to the waiters, who were now accustomed
to removing the untasted dishes almost as soon as they were put upon
the table.

"Have the coffee when it comes. It'll warm you for the fog outside."

"Thanks, I'm not used to coddling."

"Then you ought to be. But about what we were saying: then, I quite
thought old Perigal a pig for saying that about women; now, I know
he's absolutely right."

"Absolutely wrong."

"Eh!"