“«What on earth are we to do?» cried Harris.
Then George spoke up. He said Harris and I could get an hotel built for us, if we liked, and have some people made to put in. For his part, he was going back to the Stag. The greatest minds never realise their ideals in any matter; and Harris and I sighed over the hollowness of all earthly desires, and followed George.
We took our traps into the Stag, and laid them down in the hall. The landlord came up and said: «Good evening, gentlemen.»
«Oh, good evening,» said George; «we want three beds, please.»
«Very sorry, sir,» said the landlord; «but I'm afraid we can't manage it.»”