It was as though he had been told that he had been asleep all these years, that his real name was Jones and that he lived in Australia, or as though he had discovered himself to be covered with feathers. He was utterly at sea. Then he said slowly:
“Repton’s Warden of the Court of Dowry.” He was proud of knowing this, for he often blundered about the Cabinet.
“Will you or will you not fix your mind upon what I have said?” said Mary Smith.
The full absurdity of it grew increasingly upon Demaine’s imagination. “The House would think Dolly was mad,” he remarked with really beautiful humility.
“Nonsense!” said Mary Smith in disgust, “the House will know nothing about it one way or the other. The House doesn’t meddle with government—thank God! You’re popular enough I suppose?”
“Oh yes,” said Demaine.
“And you never speak, do you?”
“No,” said Demaine, “only once three years ago, the time I fell down, you know; an’ that was quite short.”
“How many people do you know in the House?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” said Demaine.