"Not a bit, old son! That is where you fail to grasp the subtleties of
British statesmanship. I tell you there are no flies on our Cabinet!"
"Flies?"
"Yes: mouches, you know. The agility of our Cabinet Ministers is such that these little insects find it impossible to alight upon them."
"Your Ministers are athletes—yes," agreed Achille comprehendingly.
"But the—"
"Only intellectually. What I mean is that they are a very downy collection of old gentlemen—"
Achille, murmuring something hazy about "Downing Street," nodded his head.
"—And when they came into power, they knew as well as anything that after three weeks or so the country would begin to grouse—"
"Grouse? A sporting bird?" interpolated Achille.
"Exactly. They knew that the country would soon start giving them the bird—"
"What bird? The grouse?"