We'll not compromise a Justice of the Peace if we can help it." "Don't play the fool, Lydia," growled Mr.Rogers, and added ingenuously, "The fact is, I wanted a word with you alone." "Oh, you scandalous man! And me tucked between the sheets!" she protested, while the company haw-haw'd.

"You'll have to put up with some more innocent amusement, my dear.

There's a badger somewhere round at the back, in a barrel: we'll have him in with the dogs-- unless you prefer a quiet round with the cards." "Oh, damn the badger at this hour!" swore Mr.Rogers.

"Cards are quiet at any rate.

Here, Raby--Penrose--Tregaskis--which of you'll cut in?
Whitmore--you'll take a hand, won't you ?" "The Parson's tired to-night, and with better excuse than you.
He's ridden down from Plymouth." "Hallo, Whitmore--what were you doing in Plymouth ?" Mr.Whitmore ignored the question.