Lockwood hurried away, and Joe Atlee, leaning back in his chair, said, ‘Well, we gave the Saxon a canter, I think. As you know, Dick, that fellow is no end of a swell.’
‘You know nothing about him,’ said the other gruffly.
‘Only so much as newspapers could tell me. He’s Master of the Horse in the Viceroy’s household, and the other fellow is Private Secretary, and some connection besides. I say, Dick, it’s all King James’s times back again. There has not been so much grandeur here for six or eight generations.’
‘There has not been a more absurd speech made than that, within the time.’
‘And he is really somebody?’ said Nina to Atlee.
‘A gran signore davvero,’ said he pompously. ‘If you don’t sing your very best for him, I’ll swear you are a republican.’
‘Come, take my arm, Nina. I may call you Nina, may I not?’ whispered Kearney.
‘Certainly, if I may call you Joe.’
‘You may, if you like,’ said he roughly, ‘but my name is Dick.’
‘I am Beppo, and very much at your orders,’ said Atlee, stepping forward and leading her away.