"What was it you suggested? A sideboard and a cigar?"
"That was my idea. It may not be the best possible, but at least it is better than perfectly useless toys. You can always blow smoke in its face, or bump its head against the sideboard. Experto crede, if you have the Latin."
Whereupon with great dignity I made my way to the lift.
In the Sideboard Department I said: "I want a sideboard for a little girl of four months, and please don't call her 'IT.' I nearly had a row with one of your downstairs staff about that."
"I will try to be careful about that, Sir," he replied. "What sort of a one?"
"Blue eyes and not much hair, and really rather a sweet smile.... Was that what you wanted to know?"
"Thank you, Sir. But I meant, what sort of a sideboard?"
I took him confidentially by the arm.
"Look here," I said, "you know how, when one is carrying a baby about, one bumps its head at all the corners? Well, not too much of that. The mothers don't really like it, you know. They smile at the time, but.... Well, not too many corners.... Yes, I like that very much. No, I won't take it with me."
The attendant wrote out the bill.