“He might have been,” said Ferdy fair-mindedly, “but I shouldn’t think he was. Mind you, I never knew the old gentleman myself, but from what I’ve heard about him I don’t think he ever had anything to do with Shakespeare.”
“Very bad ton, my grandfather,” remarked the Viscount dispassionately. “Regular loose screw. None of the Verelsts ever had anything to do with Shakespeare.”
“Well, dare say you must know best, Sherry, but only think of Anthony and Cleopatra!” argued Hero.
“Anthony and who?” asked Ferdy anxiously.
“Cleopatra. You must know Cleopatra! She was a Queen of Egypt. At least, I think it was Egypt.”
“Never been to Egypt,” said Ferdy. “Accounts for it. But I know a fellow who was in Egypt once. Said it was a sad, rubbishing sort of a place. Wouldn’t suit me at all.”
Hero giggled. “Silly! Cleopatra is hundreds and hundreds of years old!”
“Hundreds of years old?” said Ferdy, astonished.
“Good God, you know what she means!” interpolated the Viscount.
Mr Ringwood nodded. “She’s a mummy,” he said. “They have ’em in Egypt.” He felt that this piece of erudition called for some explanation, and added: “Read about ’em somewhere.”