‘Really? I congratulate you.’
‘Isn’t it splendid? She’s been so rude.’
‘Next thing I hear you’ll be having....’
‘S’sh.... General Wapshot, that fierce little man over there, came with her; we didn’t ask him, but he always goes wherever she goes. And isn’t it dreadful, Prince, I asked Wyndham to get Mr. Barlow to come—the new poet, you know; and it turns out that he’s a pro-Boer too, and insists upon reciting his own poems? There he is at this very moment.’
In their course down the room they were passing the door of a smaller apartment, given over for the evening to a set entertainment. They could see a rumpled young man waving his arms in there; they caught a whiff of him as they went by.
‘Theirs not to do or die!
Theirs but to question why!’
he was saying.
‘I don’t know what Mr. Disturnal will think; that’s him, there’—she indicated a muscular ruffian with a square blue jaw, priest or prize-fighter, one would have guessed, who was leaning against the door-post listening over his shoulder with a sardonic smile.
‘But, of course, you know all our celebrities already, Prince. He’s the most coming man on the Conservative side, they say; a staunch upholder of the Church, with all the makings of a really great statesman. It was he who saved us only last week over the second reading of that dreadful Prayer Book Amendment Act, by borrowing a pole-cat in Seven Dials just in the nick of time, and hiding it in the Lobby, so that the supporters of the measure couldn’t get in to vote. What a pity Julia isn’t here! I’m sure he’s looking out for her. She’s just gone into the rest-cure; quite worn out, poor thing. We live at a terribly high pressure, Prince; people take life so seriously now. Oh, there’s the dear Duke singing one of his delicious songs.’ They were passing the door again on the return journey, and the ping-pang of a banjo came frolicking out on the air with a fat voice lumbering huskily in pursuit: