"I am, however," says Mr. Gower. "These ladies' papers are so full of information. I'm quite enthralled just now. I've got on to the Exchange and Mart business, and it's too exciting for words. Just listen to this: 'Two dozen old tooth-brushes (in good preservation) would be exchanged for a gold bangle (unscratched). Would not be sent on approval (mind, it must not be set scratched! good old toothbrushes!) without deposit of ten shillings. Address, 'Chizzler, office of this paper.'"
"It isn't true. I don't believe a word of it," says Tita, making a snatch at the paper.
"My dear girl, why not? Two dozen old toothbrushes. Old toothbrushes, you notice. Everything old now goes for a large sum, except," thoughtfully, "aunts."
He casts a lingering glance round, but providentially Miss Gower has disappeared.
"But toothbrushes! Show me that paper."
"Do you, then, disbelieve in my word?"
"Nobody could want a toothbrush."
"Some people want them awfully," says Mr. Gower. "Haven't you noticed?"
But here Sir Maurice sees it his duty to interfere.
"Miss Bolton, will you play this next set with me?" says he, coming up to Tita.