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"For the fourteenth morning in succession I rise to a point of order. Why is there no marmalade? " The Doctor glared round the breakfast table. "I perceive a pot of unhealthy-looking damson, and a tin of golden syrup, the greater part of which now adorns the infant's face. Why is there no marmalade?"
"Could I remind you that there is a war on two miles up the road, my splay-footed bolus-booster? " With a grand rolling of his R's, the man who had driven a railway through the Rocky Mountains, and who now boasted the badges of a subaltern in His Majesty's Corps of Royal Engineers, let drive. "Ye come to live with us much against our will, because you're a poor homeless wanderer -- -- "