tread on, but can’t whack up the ginger to tell you so.”
“This is very interesting.”
“Yes. He’s not a bad chap, you know, in his way. Rather an ass, perhaps, but well-meaning. Well, that’s the posish. You might just bear it in mind, what?”
“How funny you are!”
She chucked back her head and laughed with considerable vim.
She had a penetrating sort of laugh. Rather like a train going into a tunnel. It didn’t sound over-musical to me, and on the kid Oswald it appeared to jar not a little.
He gazed at us with a good deal of dislike.
“I wish the dickens you wouldn’t make that row,” he said. “Scaring all the fish away.”
It broke the spell a bit. Honoria changed the subject.