"Well," he answered gravely, "if you come to analyse it, I dare say
there is as much sense in it as in other languages--when you know
it, you know."

"Yes," murmured the captain, with a glowing sense of satisfaction at
his own conversational powers. He felt he was becoming quite a
society man.

"But," pursued the hereditary legislator, "it's tricky--deuced
tricky. The nastiest lot of irregular verbs I've come across yet.
Still, I get along all right. Worst of it is, you know, that when
I've got a sentence out all right with its verbs and things, I'm not
in a fit state to catch the answer."

"Knocks you on to your beam-ends," suggested Captain Bontnor.

"Yes."

Lord Seahampton settled his throat more comfortably in his spotless
collar, and proceeded to help himself to a fourth mutton cutlet.

"Staying here long?" he inquired.

"No, not long," answered Captain Bontnor slowly, as if meditating;
then suddenly he burst into his story. "You see, sir," he said,
"I'm getting on in years, and I'm not quite the build for foreign
travel. It sort of flurries me. I'm a bit past it. I'm not here
for pleasure, you know."