"It would have done your heart good, Force, if you could have
been here this morning--say at half-past six--and seen the circus we
had. Well, sir, it was--"
"Half-past six? My dear man, you don't mean to say those little
rascals got you out of bed at that ungodly hour. Why, I would have--"
"Just the other way 'round," said Mr. Bingle, sheepishly. "We had to
fairly yank 'em out of bed. We are the rascals, Force--Mary and I. We
couldn't wait, don't you see? But, of course, you don't see. You
couldn't see unless you'd been counting on Christmas morning for
months. You--But, what's the matter, Force? 'Pon my word, you DO need
a bracer. Mary, dear, won't you see if--"
"See here, Bingle," blurted out Mr. Force, in desperation, "I want a
few words with you alone. It is--imperative. Hope you will excuse me,
Mrs. Bingle. I'm a bit upset--yes, considerably upset--over something
that has come up in the--er--that is to say, quite recently. I--I want
your husband's advice on--on a matter of grave importance."
The Bingles stared at him for a moment in speechless concern.
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