“You may take my place,” she said graciously. “I must see my husband. I don’t believe he’s had any supper, and he’s come such a long way.”
So we sat down, and she went to him, and as long as I was in the room they remained together and seemed more than usually content in each other’s society.
But to return to the man upon the stage. Whilst Vestasian spoke to me he had been sitting waiting there.
“What is his name?” I asked.
“We never disclose names,” Vestasian answered. “They all go by numbers. It is less complicated in the long run.”
“And less complimentary too,” I added.
“Well, so it may be. But then we never pay compliments; they are too broad.”
Then he addressed himself to the man.
“Would you be kind enough to defend your own policy?” he said.
“He never had a policy,” cried someone in the audience.