of England can. You could have plenty of flatterers, toadies,
sycophants--anything, in fine, but friends."
"I don't believe it," said Margaret, half angrily--"not a word of it.
There
must
be some honest people in the world who don't consider
that money is everything. You know there must be, beautiful!"
The poet laughed. "That," said he, affably, "is poppycock. You are
repeating the sort of thing I said to you yesterday. I am honest now.
The best of us, Margaret, cannot help being impressed by the power of