I thought I would stay a little longer.
"So you usually ordered a chop ?" I said by way of resuming the conversation.

"I hope the chops were tender." (I have a vague recollection that my intonation was.) "There are worse things in the States than the mutton," replied Mr.
Mafferton, moving his chair to enable him, by twisting his neck not too ostentatiously, to glance occasionally at Dicky and Isabel, "but the steaks were distinctly better than the chops--distinctly." "So all connoisseurs say," I replied respectfully.

"Would you like to change seats with me?
I don't mind sitting with my back to--Vesuvius." Mr.Mafferton blushed--unless it was the glow from the volcano.
"Not on my account," he said.

"By any means." "You do not fear a demonstration," I suggested.

"And yet the forces of nature are very uncertain.