Page:The Poison Belt - Conan Doyle, 1913.djvu/67

 46  Lord John gave a shrill whistle, and Summerlee shook his head sadly.

"So early in the day, too," said he. "It is indeed deplorable. As I sat there in sad but thoughtful silence"

"In silence!" cried Lord John. "Why, you were doin' a music-hall turn of imitations all the way—more like a runaway gramophone than a man."

Summerlee drew himself up in bitter protest.

"You are pleased to be facetious. Lord John," said he, with a face of vinegar.

"Why, dash it all, this is clear madness," cried Lord John. "Each of us seems to know what the others did and none of us knows what he did himself. Let's put it all together from the first. We got into a first-class smoker, that's clear, ain't it? Then we began to quarrel over friend Challenger's letter in the Times."

"Oh, you did, did you?" rumbled our host, his eyelids beginning to droop.