"Balmy, sir?" Mr. Todd asked in surprise. "He takes the air every morning, if that is what you mean." He turned again to Lady Splay. "He keeps the most admirable table. You must know him, Lady Splay. I will see to it."
"Thank you," said Millie Splay humbly.
"Ah, muffins!" said Mr. Albany Todd with glistening eyes. He ate one and took another. "These are really as good as the muffins I ate at a wonderful week-end party a fortnight ago."
The chatter of the others ceased. The great conversationalist, it seemed, was off. Miranda, Dennis, Harold Jupp, Sir Chichester, even Joan looked up with expectation.
"Yes," said Lady Splay, encouraging him. She looked around at her guests. "Now you shall see," she seemed to say.
"How we laughed! What sprightly talk! The fine flavour of that party is quite incommunicable. Just dear old friends, you see, intimate, congenial friends."
Mr. Albany Todd stopped. It appeared that he needed a question to be put to him. Lady Splay dutifully put it.
"And where did this party take place, Mr. Albany Todd?"
Mr. Albany Todd smiled and dusted the crumbs from his knees.
"At the Earl of Wimborough's little place in the north. Do you know the Earl of Wimborough? No? You must, dear lady! I will see to it."