“It was inevitable,” he declared. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. The wine was sweetened with cinnamon and cloves and rare edible flowers, which her father had instructed her not to drink excessively of. "No, no, let him alone," interposed Wood.
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