“You’re right,” Brett said. “You’re terribly right. I always joke people and I haven’t a friend in the world. Except Jake here.”
“You don’t joke him.”
“That’s it.”
“Do you, now?” asked the count. “Do you joke him?”
Brett looked at me and wrinkled up the corners of her eyes.
“No,” she said. “I wouldn’t joke him.”
“See,” said the count. “You don’t joke him.”
“This is a hell of a dull talk,” Brett said. “How about some of that champagne?”
The count reached down and twirled the bottles in the shiny bucket. “It isn’t cold, yet. You’re always drinking, my dear. Why don’t you just talk?”
“I’ve talked too ruddy much. I’ve talked myself all out to Jake.”
“I should like