'Have you done preaching at me, Raphael?' inquired Sidney. 'If so, pass me a banana.'
Raphael smiled sadly and obeyed.
'I'm afraid if I see much of Raphael I shall be converted to Judaism,' said Sidney, peeling the banana. 'I had better take a hansom to the Riviera at once. I intended to spend Christmas there; I never dreamt I should be talking theology in London.'
'Oh, I think Christmas in London is best,' said the hostess unguardedly.
'Oh, I don't know. Give me Brighton,' said the host.
'Well, yes, I suppose Brighton is pleasanter,' said Mr. Montagu Samuels.
'Oh, but so many Jews go there,' observed Percy Saville.
'Yes, that is the drawback,' said Mrs. Henry Goldsmith. 'Do you know, some years ago I discovered a delightful village in Devonshire, and took the household there in the summer. The very next year when I went down I found no less than two Jewish families temporarily located there. Of course I have never gone there since.'
'Yes, it's wonderful how Jews scent out all the nicest places,' agreed Mrs. Montagu Samuels. 'Five years ago you could escape them by not going to Ramsgate; now even the Highlands are getting impossible.'
Thereupon the hostess rose and the ladies retired to the drawing-room, leaving the gentlemen to discuss coffee, cigars, and the paradoxes of Sidney, who, tired of religion, looked to dumb-show plays for the salvation of dramatic literature.