Philip.
[In disgust.] Oh, lord!
Roope.
Now, Phil, don't be naughty.
Philip.
The fellow who does the Society gossip for the Planet!
Roope.
And does it remarkably neatly, in my opinion.
Philip.
Pouah! [Leaning back in his chair, his legs outstretched, and spouting.] "Mrs. Trevelyan Potter, wearing a gown of yellow charmeuse exquisitely draped with chiffon, gave a dance for her niece Miss Hermione Stubbs at the Ritz Hotel last night." That sort o' stuff!