Clifford made big eyes: it was all stuff to him. Connie secretly laughed to herself.

“Well then, we’re all plucked apples,” said Hammond, rather acidly and petulantly.

“So let’s make cider of ourselves,” said Charlie.

“But what do you think of Bolshevism?” put in the brown Berry, as if everything had led up to it.

“Bravo!” roared Charlie. “What do you think of Bolshevism?”

“Come on! Let’s make hay of Bolshevism!” said Dukes.

“I’m afraid Bolshevism is a large question,” said Hammond, shaking his head seriously.