The Museum was very partial to Irish stew, even the Living Skeleton liked the smell of it.
Ten to one the Missing Link would be found hovering about Madame at such a time, garbed in his simian costume, but with the mask-like make-up turned back, exposing Nickie's florid countenance and rakish grin.
Possibly at such moments Nickie would presume to squeeze Madame's waist.
He might even venture to steal a kiss.

If so, Madame's protest might be forcible, but it would not be vindictive.
Madame was not disposed to quarrel with Nickie; he was a profitable adjunct; the Museum had never possessed so versatile a missing link, and, as for a little philandering--pooh, it was all in a lifetime.
The tents were pitched at Catcat.

The situation was similar to that described above, but Professor Thunder had the bad taste to intrude when Nickie was in the act of forcibly extracting a kiss in revenge.

Madame Marve having playfully covered him with flour.
Professor Thunder was a jealous man, and an inflammatory one.

He uttered a roar that would not have discredited the Missing Link in its native jungle in the wilds of Darkest Africa.
"You infernal blackguard!" he yelled.
"Now, Jim," cried Madame Marve in sudden alarm, standing between the men with her paste pin.
"Out of my way, woman!" cried the Professor, tossing her aside.
Professor Thunder fell upon Nicholas Crips, and smote him hip and thigh.
He was not content to smite--he kicked.