He went on lamenting and lamely protesting that the Government in the King's Speech had not included a Bill to regulate Charity Bazaars, and was endeavouring to institute a comparison with the social system of the ancient Assyrians. His peroration had been misplaced; he had begun with it. He had reached his seventhly. There were no signs of the approaching end, no means whatever of computing when that might be. He merely went on. His speech was like a long and muddy road on a splashy wet night.
June crowned Geoffrey. Obediently he rose.
"Mr. Speaker," he said, with the gesture that practice in the bedroom had made perfect. "This intolerable flow of drivel----"
"Order! Order!" cried a hundred voices.
The interrupted orator turned round to stare at Geoffrey with eyes of angry surprise.
Intervention came from the proper place. The Speaker was on his feet. Bim clung to the wig to prevent his displacement.
"The noble lord," said Mr. Speaker, in his most conciliatory and compelling manner, "is so young a member of the House that he merits every indulgence; but I must remind him that to interrupt an honourable member in any other way than by rising to a point of order is a serious breach of the procedure and order of this House."
Geoffrey had, of course, resumed his seat immediately the Speaker rose; but, authority having spoken, the crown would no more let him sit still, acquiescent, than it had allowed any of its human wearers to remain their normal selves. He rose again.
A tornado of cries of "Order!" greeted Geoffrey's further involuntary breach of obedience.
June flew across to the Speaker.