'I don't quite grasp your meaning,' he stammered.
'I never said,' Soame Rivers replied deliberately, 'that the heart of the English people was not just as sound and true now as ever it was—I dare say it is just about the same—même jeu, don't you know?' and he took a languid puff at his cigarette.
'Am I to be glad or sorry of your answer?' Lord Courtreeve asked, with a stare.
'How can I tell? It depends on what you want me to say.'
'Well, if you mean to praise the great heart of the English people now, and at other times——'
'Oh dear, no; I mean nothing of the kind.'
'I say, Rivers, this is all bosh, you know,' Sir Rupert struck in.
'I think we are all shams and frauds in our set—in our class,' Rivers said, composedly; 'and we are well brought up and educated and all that, don't you know? I really can't see why some cads who clean windows, or drive omnibuses, or sell vegetables in a donkey-cart, or carry bricks up a ladder, should be any better than we. Not a bit of it—if we are bad, they are worse, you may put your money on that.'
'Well I think I have had my answer,' the Dictator said, with a smile.
'And what is your interpretation of the Oracle's answer?' Rivers asked.