. .'
"Something like that, I think, papa."
"Ah, to be sure: 'mould'ring gable ends,' a most accurate
description. It used to belong to--" and the Admiral plunged again
into a flood of conversation.
"You must bring this Mr. Moggridge and introduce him," said Mrs.
Goodwyn-Sandys to Sam. "He is a Collector of Customs, is he not?
Do you think he would recite any of his verses to me?"
"By the hour. But I shouldn't advise you to ask him. It's all about
my sister."
"Which?"
"The eldest there--Sophy's her name--and don't judge from
appearances; the family diet is not hardware."
"Hush, sir! you must not be rude. That reminds me that I ought to go
and speak to them."
"You won't get anything out of them. If you want a subject, though,
I'll give you the straight tip--lambs. I've heard them talk about
lambs by the hour. Say they are nice and soft and woolly: that'll
draw them out."
"You are a great quiz, I perceive."
"No, really, now, Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys."
"But, really yes, Mr. Buzza. I shall have to cure you, I see, before
I can trust my husband in your company."
She rose and left him to his flutter of pleased excitement. Oh, Sam!
Sam! To fall from innocence was bad enough, but to fall thus easily!
In a few moments and with charming tact, Mrs.
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