I had never before seen a Law Lord dressed as for
tennis, with a stump-leg barrel-organ strapped to his shoulder.
But it is a shy bird in this plumage. Lord Lundie strove to
disembarrass himself of his accoutrements much as an ill-trained
Punch and Judy dog tries to escape backwards through his frilled
collar. Sir Christopher, covered with limewash, cherished a
bleeding thumb, and the almost crazy monkey tore at Giuseppe's
hair.
The men on both sides reeled, but the woman stood her ground.
"Idiots!" she said, and once more, "Idiots!"
I could have gladdened a few convicts of my acquaintance with a
photograph of Lord Lundie at that instant.
"Madam," he began, wonderfully preserving the roll in his voice,
"it was a monkey."
Sir Christopher sucked his thumb and nodded.
"Take it away and go," she replied. "Go away!"
I would have gone, and gladly, on this permission, but these
still strong men must ever be justifying themselves. Lord Lundie
turned to the husband, who for the first time spoke.
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