one of these days instead of settling down in a lawyer's office, and wearing spats.
"Our friend Masham," said Timmy Durrant, "would rather not be seen in our company as we are now." His buttons had come off.
"D'you know Masham's aunt?" said Jacob.
"Never knew he had one," said Timmy.
"Masham has millions of aunts," said Jacob.
"Masham is mentioned in Domesday Book," said Timmy.
"So are his aunts," said Jacob.
"His sister," said Timmy, "is a very pretty girl."
"That's what'll happen to you, Timmy," said Jacob.
"It'll happen to you first," said Timmy.
"But this woman I was telling you about—Masham's aunt———"
"Oh, do get on," said Timmy, for Jacob was laughing so much that he could not speak.
"Masham's aunt . . ."
Timmy laughed so much that he could not speak.
"Masham's aunt . . ."
"What is there about Masham that makes one laugh?" said Timmy.
"Hang it all—a man who swallows his tie-pin," said Jacob.
"Lord Chancellor before he's fifty," said Timmy.
"He's a gentleman," said Jacob.
"The Duke of Wellington was a gentleman," said Timmy.
"Keats wasn't."
"Lord Salisbury was."
"And what about God?" said Jacob.
The Scilly Isles now appeared as if directly pointed at by a golden finger issuing from a cloud; and everybody knows how portentous that sight is, and how these broad rays, whether they light upon the Scilly Isles or upon the tombs of crusaders in cathedrals, always shake the very foundations of scepticism and lead to jokes about God.
