_Mr. Bellerby_ (_stiffly_). Excuse me, I don't seem fortunate enough to
have secured your undivided attention.
_Culch._ (_with intense interest_). Quite the contrary, I assure you! You
were saying you always ordered it out of economy?
_Mr. B._ Pardon _me_--I was saying nothing of the sort. I was saying that I
told the Manager I knew that was why he _thought_ I ordered it--a rather
different thing! "You're quite wrong," I said. "You may pay
twopence-halfpenny a pound for it, and charge me half-a-crown, if you like,
but I mean to _taste_ that tunny!" I was determined not to be done out of
my tunny, Sir!
_Culch._ (_breathlessly_). And what did the tunny--I mean the Manager--say
to _that_?
_Mr. B._ Oh, made more difficulties--it wasn't to be got, and so on. At
last I said to him (very quietly, but he saw I was in earnest), "Now I tell
you what it _is_--I'm going to _have_ that tunny, and, if you refuse to
give it me,--well, I shall just send my courier _out_ for it, that's all!"
So, with, _that_, they brought me some--and anything more delicious I never
tasted in all my life!
_Culch._ (_to himself_). If I can only keep him on at this tunny!
(_Aloud._) And--er--what _does_ it taste like exactly, now?
_Mr.
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