"No," said Leah, tickled by the implied rebuke, "it doesn't do to wear your heart on your sleeve--links": a witticism which was entirely lost on Jim. He was one of the many obtuse swine who trampled on Leah's pearls.
What with eating and drinking, and professing seasonable sentiments which certainly did not come from the heart, everyone became bored and bilious and fractious. Leah surveyed the yawning revellers with a feeling that Christmas, old style, was a failure.
"You can't arrange an orgy," was her comment to Lady Canvey, "it must come by chance, to be successful."
"I don't think Pentland intended anything so disreputable," retorted the old dame, "consequently you are disappointed."
"Bored," Lady Jim assured her. "I suppose it's eating plum pudding which always makes me dull."
"But not good-natured."
"My digestion has its limits. Good night, godmother; I suppose it's time for you to be taken to pieces," and having stricken Lady Canvey dumb with rage, she slipped away to bed, wondering what would happen before next Christmas.
"Something must be done," she thought, wearily climbing the stairs. "If Lionel fails with the Duke, Demetrius might----"
Might what? She did not know. But she really did feel that something might be done with Demetrius.