Where are your Sunday clothes ?" "Where are they ?" snarled Bob, speaking as if I had touched him on a very sore spot.

"Why, locked up in the surgery cupboard along with the 'natomy bones and the sticking-plaster roll." "What! Has your father locked them up ?" "Yes, he has locked them up, and says he isn't going to run all over the country seeing patients to find me in clothes to lose--just as if I could help it." "But haven't you been measured for some more ?" "Yes, but they won't be done yet, and father says I'm to go on wearing these the rest of the time I'm at home." I looked at him from top to toe as he stood before me, and it was of no use to try to keep my countenance.

I could not, and the more I tried the more I seemed to be obliged to laugh.
As for Bob he ground his teeth and clenched his hands, but this only made him look the more comic, and I threw myself in a chair and fairly roared, till he came at me like an angry bull; but as I made no resistance, only laughed, he lowered his fists.
"I can't help it, Bob; I was obliged to laugh," I cried.

"There, you may laugh at me now; but you do look so droll.

Have you been out ?" "Been out?
In these?
Of course I haven't.