But this sudden suggestion, that the selection might have fallen upon him, unnerved him with pleasure.
"Which of us," he began, and the respectful official interrupted him.
"Not you, sir, I am sorry to say.

If I may be permitted to say so, we know your services to the Government, and should be very thankful if it were.

The choice has fallen...." "God bless my soul!" said Lambert, jumping back two paces.

"Not me.
Don't say I'm autocrat of all the Russias." "No, sir," said the officer, with a slight cough and a glance towards Auberon, who was at that moment putting his head between his legs and making a noise like a cow; "the gentleman whom we have to congratulate seems at the moment--er--er--occupied." "Not Quin!" shrieked Barker, rushing up to him; "it can't be.

Auberon, for God's sake pull yourself together.