A silence fell on these two friends.
"Well, what about dear old London?" said Jenny at last.
"It's extraordinarily the same. Let me see, had tubes and taxis been invented before you went away?" Castleton asked.
"Don't be silly. Of course," she exclaimed, outraged by such an implication of antediluvian exile.
"Then flatly there is nothing to tell you about London. I was at the Orient the other night. I need not say the ballet was precisely the same as a dozen others I have seen, and you have helped at."
"Any pretty new girls?" Jenny asked.
"I believe there are one or two."
"How's Ronnie Walker?"
"He still lives more for painting than by painting, and has grown a cream-colored beard."
"Oh, he never hasn't. Then he ought to get the bird."