'A tiara or two, I should say,' smiled Tommy.
'It's awfully hot!' Peggy rose, pulled up the blind, and flung the window open. 'Let's drink their health. Hurrah!'
Their shouts made the policeman smile, and caused the woman, who, having gone down round the west corner, had come up again and turned into the street from the east, to look up to the lights in the window; then she leant against the railings opposite and watched the lights. The policeman, after a moment's consideration, began to walk towards her very slowly, obviously desiring it to be understood that he was not thereby committed to any definite action; he would approach a crowd on the pavement, having some invisible centre of disturbance or interest, with the same strictly provisional air.
'And how was our friend Lady Blixworth?' asked Tommy.
'She looked tired, and said she'd been taking Audrey Pollington about. She's the most treacherous accomplice I know.'
'She's like Miles here. Nothing's sacred if a good gibe's possible.'
'Nothing ought to be sacred at which a good gibe—a good one—is possible,' Childwick maintained.
'Oh, I only meant something smart,' explained Tommy contemptuously.
'Then don't deviate into careless compliment. It causes unnecessary conversation, and the mutton is far from bad, though not far from being finished.'