As he read his face changed.
"Yes, that won't do," he said, very quietly.

He carried the newspaper back with him to his chair and sat down again.

He had the air of a man struck clean out of his wits.

"That won't do," he repeated, and again, with a rush of angry blood into his face, "No, that won't do." It seemed that Sir Chichester's harmless little foible had suddenly received more than its due punishment.
The newspaper slipped from his fingers on to the floor, whilst he sat staring at the white tablecloth in front of him.

But no sooner did Harold Jupp at his side make a movement to pick the paper up than Sir Chichester swooped down upon it in a flash.
"No!" he said.