Page:Et Cetera, a Collector's Scrap-Book (1924).djvu/29

 Philip [musingly]: A peeled salmon in a sea of blood.

Dorothy [revolted]: Philip:

Philip: Yes, dear.

Dorothy: You frighten me when you talk like that.

Philip: I’m sorry. I only wanted to frighten myself. I don’t want to talk about beefsteaks.

Dorothy: Poor Philip!

Philip: Bloody ones with gristle. That’s Kipling. I can’t forget these things.

Dorothy: I think that to-morrow if nothing happens—

Philip: Well?

Dorothy: Something will happen.

Philip: No. To-morrow morning I’ll sell some of the furniture.

Dorothy: But it belongs to the landlord.

Philip: I think sometimes that we belong to the landlord. We’ll tell Shy lock we’ve eaten his armchairs. A sofa on toast with little mushrooms and chopped parsley.

Dorothy: I think I heard a knock.

Philip: It’s your fancy knocking against the walls of your head because it cannot sleep.

Dorothy: No, I’m sure I heard a knock.

Philip [rising]: Perhaps it’s the postman with a cheque.