For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. "Oh lord! I hope not. " After all those former bitter failures, this cup was sweet, even if there was the flavour of irony. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. You can test it out on us this Thanksgiving Sunday. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. Nobody can anticipate your next move. He resented being regarded as irregular.
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