"He has tea there every Sunday," he explained to Peter, "and he a married man, too." "It's time I went," said Donovan, laughing; "all the same, there's a concert on Tuesday in next week, a good one, I believe, and I've promised to go and take some people.

Who'll come?
Pennell, will you ?" "Not this child, thanks.

Too many nurses, too much tea, and too much talk for me.

Now, if you would pick me out a pretty one and fix up a little dinner in town, I'm your man, old bean." "Well, that might be managed.

It's time we had a flutter of some sort.
I'll see.