. "I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. “It is not an easy matter,” he said, “for me to offer you an altogether adequate explanation. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. Once he chuckled aloud. A fierce struggle ensued. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think.
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