Of Wombats and Breeches

"Your wombat is eating my hat!" exclaimed Jack.
"Nonsense, Jack," replied Steven with a dismissive wave of his hand. "He's well trained, perfectly civilized. Unfortunately, I fear I cannot say the same for you, leaving articles of clothing about someone else's quarters."
"If he had not invited me into his rooms and then beseeched me to remove my garments...why, I daresay that hat, those breeches, and that shirt would yet be covering me up," Jack returned, taking playful umbridge.
"Indeed." Stephen's eyes as he looked up from the specimen he studied glinted with mischief. "However, since they aren't..." The clothes remained on the floor.