"I'm always trying to find out whether there are any different things, Harry." He smiled at his son. "Wives, that's what they are! And several of them! Harry, we're in for all the difficulties of polygamy! A preference to one—oh no, I'm not spelling it with a big P! But—well, the ladies ought to be able to help us here. Could you share a heart, Miss Vintry?"
Isobel's white was relieved with gold trimmings; she looked sumptuous. "I shouldn't like it," she answered.
"What has all this got to do with the practical problem?" Wellgood demanded. "Our trade with the Colonies is no more than thirty per cent—"
"I agree with you, Mr. Wellgood. The gentlemen had much better have kept to their politics," Mrs. Belfield interposed with suave placidity. "They understand them. When they begin to talk about women—"
"Need of Lethe—whisky and Lethe-water!" chuckled Harry. "In a large glass, eh, Andy?"
Wellgood turned suddenly on Andy. "You've lived in Canada. What do you say?"
Andy had been far too much occupied in listening. Besides, he was no politician. He thought deeply for a moment.
"A lot depends on whether you want to buy or to sell." He delivered himself of this truth quite solemnly.
"A very far-reaching observation," said Mr. Belfield. "Goes to the root of human traffic, and, quite possibly, to that of both the institutions which we have been discussing. I wonder whether either will be permanent!"
"Look here, pater, we're at dessert! Aren't you starting rather big subjects?"