Are you there ?" "Yes, I'm 'ere, or I think I am," said David with a desperate calmness.
"Is that all ?" "All for the present." "It doesn't say that Coke is a ravin', tearin', 'owlin' lunatic, does it ?" "No.

Is that your view ?" Bulmer's hand gripped David's wrist.

Their eyes met.
"I was thinkin' that the chap who writes these penny novelette wires might 'ave rounded up his yarn in good shape," said Verity aloud.
"But there is not the slightest doubt that something of the kind has occurred," said the voice.
"It's a put-up job!" roared David.

"Them bloomin' Portygees 'ave sunk my ship, an' they're whackin' in their flam now so as to score first blow.

A year-old baby 'ud see that if 'is father was a lawyer." The sub-editor laughed.
"Well, I'll ring you up again when the next message comes through," he said.
But to Bulmer, David said savagely: "Wot's bitten Coke?
'E must 'ave gone stark, starin' mad." "Iris is alive!" murmured Bulmer.
"Nice mess she med of things w'en she slung 'er 'ook from Linden 'Ouse," grunted her uncle.
"I don't blame 'er.