"Haven't got enough imagination." "The child of 'Ellas and of Ollywell Street'-- innocent of--er--the rough breathing," suggested Maddox.
As it was now seven o'clock, and the Junior Journalists were dropping off one by one to the dining-room below, the young men of _The Planet_ began to stretch their legs, and raise their voices, and behave like young men who believe their privacy to be inviolable and complete.
They soon had the place to themselves, except for one person whose entrance had been covered by the outgoing stream; and he had delicately turned his back on them, and taken a seat in the farthest window, where his unobtrusive presence could be no possible hindrance to conversation.
"I've seen him after supper," said Maddox.

He was obliged to speak rather loudly, because of the noise that came up from the overcrowded dining-room.
"Well, then, how did he strike you ?" Maddox's eyes curled with limpid, infantile devilry.
"Well, I daresay he might be a bit of a bounder when he's sober, but he's a perfect little gentleman when he's drunk.

Softens him down somehow." "_In vino veritas_--a true gentleman at heart." "One of Nature's gentlemen.

_I_ know 'em," said Stables.
"One of Art's gentlemen," interposed Jewdwine severely, "and a very fine gentleman too, if you take him that way." Jewdwine raised his head from his letter and looked round uneasily.
Personalities were not altogether to his taste; besides, he was really anxious to finish that letter.

He caught sight of a back at the other window.
"I think," said he quietly, "this conversation had better cease." The owner of the back had moved, a little ostentatiously.