“Why in the name of common sense should we mind?”
“Well, you know what they say about him?”
“Yes.”
“And you are not afraid? I am positively grateful to you. We are having the hardest time to fill the eight places at the table.”
“What particular variety of heathen are you inviting?”
“American.”
That afternoon we had a visit from an American gentleman, a friend of ours and of the Z——’s.
“Shall we meet next Monday at the Z——’s dinner?” I asked in the course of conversation.
“No, they were good enough to invite me, but I got out of it.”
I stared at him—he is one of the Z——’s greatest friends.