“Masters, you won’t mind my coming round again? Perhaps to-night?”
“Sleep here, if you like,” he smiled. “I’ll be coming myself for a second, about midnight. Wife’s got a party. Like to come? Rather good bridge. Well, please yourself....”
II
I agreed with my sister that it was abominably rude of her younger brother to be nearly an hour late to take her out to dinner, especially as she had been ready for at least twenty minutes. She was furious. I said: “There is a new dance place open. I heard about it from a friend of mine, Mr. Cherry-Marvel. You will meet him, he is charming. This new place is called La Plume de Ma Tante. It has only been open three nights, so it will be very modish for another two. There is a nightingale there.”
“One cannot dance to a nightingale.”
“But why are you so exclusive?”
“It is cruel and beastly to keep a nightingale caged.”
“Dear, it takes a woman who once had a passion for aigrettes and who loves eating lobsters to be so sensitive. But there is probably baser music to supplement this nightingale. There are, in fact, five lovely niggers. The place is called La Plume de Ma Tante so that English people may know exactly where they stand.”
“You are so funny to-night, but would you mind not polishing your shoes on my dress? This is a very terrible taxi, and I think men are monstrous. If you were taking any woman but your sister out to dinner you would have chosen the taxi with discretion.”
“Rudolf and Raymonde are the dancers. I do not want to go to The Pen of My Aunt, but for your sake I would go anywhere. After dinner.”