to make a very rapid spring.”
The Right Hon. was a tubby little chap who looked as if he had been poured into his clothes and had forgotten to say “When!” and the picture he conjured up, if you know what I mean, was rather pleasing.
“It is no laughing matter,” he said, shifting the look of dislike to me.
“Sorry.”
“I might have been seriously injured.”
“Would you consider bunging another brick at the bird?”
“Do nothing of the sort. It will only annoy him.”
“Well, why not annoy him? He hasn’t shown such a dashed lot of consideration for our feelings.”
The Right Hon. now turned to another aspect of the matter.