They shook hands.

Upon the General's fat face there was an expression of horror and perplexity, but Mr.Condor was perfectly calm.
"What an awful thing!" said Belch, as the other sat down before the fire.
"Frightful," said Mr.Condor, placidly, as he lighted a cigar, "but not surprising." "Who do you suppose did it ?" asked the General.
"Impossible to tell.

A drunken brawl, with its natural consequences; that's all." "Yes, I know; but it's awful." "Providential." "What do you mean ?" "Abel Newt would have made mince-meat of you and me and the rest of us if he had lived.

That's what I mean," replied Mr.Condor, unruffled, and lightly whiffing the smoke.

"But it's necessary to draw some resolutions to offer in the committee, and I've brought them with me.