Captain Puffin turned extremely red. (“Now the shrimp’s being boiled,” thought Miss Mapp.)
“I can’t do more than apologize,” said he. He did not know whether he was angrier with his ambassador or her.
“Did you say you couldn’t do ‘more,’” said Miss Mapp with an air of great interest. “How curious! I should have thought you couldn’t have done less.”
“Well, what more can I do?” asked he.
“If you think,” said Miss Mapp, “that you hurt me by your conduct that night, you are vastly mistaken. And if you think you can do no more than apologize, I will teach you better. You can make an effort, Captain Puffin, to break with your deplorable habits, to try to get back a little of the self-respect, if you ever had any, which you have lost. You can cease trying, oh, so unsuccessfully, to drag Major Benjy down to your level. That’s what you can do.”
She let these withering observations blight him.
“I accept your apologies,” she said. “I hope you will do better in the future, Captain Puffin, and I shall look anxiously for signs of improvement. We will meet with politeness and friendliness when we are brought together and I will do my best to wipe all remembrance of your tipsy impertinence from my mind. And you must do your best too. You are not young, and engrained habits are difficult to get rid of. But do not despair, Captain Puffin. And now I will ring for Withers and she will show you out.”
She rang the bell, and gave a sample of her generous oblivion.
“And we meet, do we not, this evening at Mrs. Poppit’s?” she said, looking not at him, but about a
