“Which is exactly its demerit, my Lady,” said he, with one of his blandest smiles, “In my craft the great secret is never to give a flat refusal to anything. If the French were to ask us for the Isle of Wight, the proper reply would be a polite demand for the reasons that prompted the request—whether 'Osborne' might be reserved—and a courteous assurance that the claim should meet with every consideration and a cordial disposition to make every possible concession that might lead to a closer union with a nation it was our pride and happiness to reckon on as an ally.”
“These fallacies never deceive any one.”
“Nor are they meant to do so, any more than the words 'your most obedient and humble servant' at the foot of a letter; but they serve to keep correspondence within polite limits.”
“And they consume time,” broke she in, impatiently.
“And, as you observe so aptly, they consume time.”
“Let us have done with trifling, my Lord. I mean to answer this letter in my own way.”
“I can have no other objection to make to that, save the unnecessary loss of time I have incurred in listening to the matter.”
“That time so precious to the nation you serve!” said she, sneeringly.
“Your Ladyship admirably expresses my meaning.”
“Then, my Lord, I make you the only amends in my power; I take my leave of you.”