He's my husband's best friend." "I didn't say it, Mrs.Medcroft.It was my mother." Brock was hiding a smile behind his hand.

"She knows him better than I.To tell the truth, I've never met him, but I've seen him on the Fifth Avenue stages.

You _do_ look like him, though, by Jove." "It's extraordinary how many people think I look like dear old Brock," said the false Roxbury.

"But, on the other hand, most people think that Brock looks like me, so what's the odds?
Haw, haw! Ripping! Eh, Mr.
Rodney ?" "Ripping?
Ripping what?
Good God, am I ripping anything ?" gasped Mr.
Rodney, who was fussy and fat and generally futile.

He seemed to grow suddenly uncomfortable, as if ripping was a habit with him.
Dinner was a success.