The agreeable and scholarly voice of Mr. Warp broke the silence:
“Your utterances, sir, appear to me to show a decidedly anti-Chauvinist bias. For my part, since the invasion of the Ruhr by the French and the assault on Corfu by the Italians, I have never been able to think of Poincaré or Mussolini without a grave disorder of mind. May I ask, sir, if you favour the Liberal school of thought? We would be far from disdaining your assistance in our imminent campaign for convincing the people of the essential truths of Liberalism.”
“I incline, if anything, to Labour, Mr. Warp; and hope to assist that party to very considerable success at your next elections; for, if I may say so, you cannot sweep a party out of existence for long by talking like a pack of silly schoolboys of biscuits, motor-cars and secret documents.”
“Hear, hear!” said the Lord Chancellor, who had gone to sleep and was dreaming that he was listening to a speech against Prohibition.
“On the other hand,” mildly said de Travest, “we are still awaiting an explanation of your sickening intrusion into Lady Surplice’s house.”
“Mrs. Amp sent me,” said the Other wearily.
“Mrs. Amp!” cried Lady Surplice. “Mrs. Amp? That low woman!”
“How can you bring yourself to know such women?” said Dame Warp bitterly. “Particularly when, through sundry minor faults, there must be so many decent women—I said decent women—in your, well, environment.”
“She amuses me,” said Satan. “However,” the voice went on, “as I have fulfilled my promise, I will now, with your permission, take my leave.”
“But, Prince,” cried Lady Surplice, “what was your promise? What have you fulfilled? What has that low woman to do with it? I insist on knowing, Prince. Is this a time for silence?”