MR. HOOPDRIVER, KNIGHT-ERRANT
wasn't that sturdy chap in the gaiters! Should he rise and begin? What would she think if he brought a black eye to breakfast to-morrow? "Is this the man?" said Mr. Hoopdriver, with a business-like calm, and arms more angular than ever.
"Eat 'im!" said the little man with the beard; "eat 'im straight orf."
"Steady on!" said the young man in the white tie. "Steady on a minute. If I did happen to say———"
"You did, did you?" said Mr. Hoopdriver.
"Backing out of it, Charlie?" said the young man with the gaiters.
"Not a bit," said Charlie. "Surely we can pass a bit of a joke———"
"I'm going to teach you to keep your jokes to yourself," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
"Bray-vo!" said the shepherd of the flock of chins.
"Charlie is a bit too free with his jokes," said the little man with the beard.
"It's downright disgusting," said Hoopdriver, falling back upon his speech. "A lady can't ride a bicycle in a country road, or wear a dress a little out of the ordinary, but every dirty little greaser must needs go shouting insults———"
"I didn't know the young lady would hear what I said," said Charlie. "Surely one can speak friendly to one's friends. How was I to know the door was open———"
Hoopdriver began to suspect that his antagonist was, if possible, more seriously alarmed at the prospect of violence than himself, and his spirits rose
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