"You did. And I said I didn't see what use the bishop would be. In fact he'd be worse than no use. If the public sees the name of a bishop at the head of a list of patrons it naturally thinks that the show is going to be a Diocesan Conference or something of the sort and simply stays away."
Again Hinton gave way, or appeared to give way.
"It might be advantageous, madam," he said, "if we secured the name of some gentleman prominently connected with the customs and excise."
Hinton's ideas of suitable patrons were certainly odd. A custom house officer, though a useful and generally an active civil servant, is not the sort of man whose name often appears in the newspapers.
"The name of a custom house officer on our list of patrons," Hinton explained, "would convince the public that our pageant is entirely bona fide."
"But what else could it be? You don't mean to suggest that we should really smuggle things?"
"Of course not, madam, but the public is sometimes very unintelligent, and——"
"No public could possibly be as stupid as that."
The cups and plates were by this time restored to their shelves in the pantry. Hinton, having discovered a leather, was giving an unaccustomed polish to the spoons and forks.
"I only suggested a customs officer," he said, "because I thought that if he became interested he might arrange for some of his subordinates to take part in the pageant, as preventive officers, capturing the smugglers and the lugger. That's simply an idea. Of course the management of the dramatic side of the pageant is entirely in your hands."