’ ‘Nonsense, it’ll give Pottiswick something genuine to complain about,’ said Gerald cheerfully, moving to the edge of the trees. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned. They are arbitrary and unjust and dogmatic and brutish and lustful. "Only sprained it a little, that's all," answered Thames; "the pain will go off presently. But tell her this, too.
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