"Talk about supreme in Common Room," said Boreham, catching at the opportunity to drive his dagger into the weak points of Oxford, "you chaps, even before the war, could hardly man your Common Rooms. You're all married men living out in the brick villas."
"Harding's married," said Bingham. "I'm thinking about it. I've been thinking for twenty years. It takes a long time to mature thoughts. By the by, was that a Miss Dashwood who sat next Harding? I don't think I have ever met her in Oxford."
"She is a Miss Scott," said Boreham, suddenly remembering that he wanted to join the ladies as soon as possible. He would get Bingham alone some day, and squeeze him. Just now there wasn't time. As to Harding—he was a hopeless idiot.
"Not one of Scott of Oriel's eight daughters? Don't know 'em by sight even. Can't keep pace with 'em," said Harding.
"She's the daughter of Lady Belinda Scott," said Boreham, "and staying with Lady Dashwood."
"I thought she didn't belong to Oxford," said Bingham.
Harding stared at his fellow Don, vaguely annoyed. He disliked to hear Bingham hinting at any Oxford "brand"—it was the privilege of himself and his wife to criticise Oxford. Also, why hadn't he talked to Miss Scott? He wondered why he hadn't seen that she was not an Oxford girl by her dress and by her look of self-satisfied simplicity, the right look for a well-bred girl to have.
"I promised to show Mrs. Dashwood my house," said Boreham. "We mustn't keep the ladies too long waiting. Shall we go?" he added. "Oh, sorry, Harding, I didn't notice you hadn't finished!"
The men rose and went into the drawing-room. Harding saw, as he entered, that his wife had discovered that Miss Scott was a stranger and she was talking to her, while Mrs. Greenleafe Potten had got the Dashwoods into a corner and was telling them all about Chartcote: a skeleton list of names with nothing attached to them of historical interest. It was like reading aloud a page of Bradshaw, and any interruption to such entertainment was a relief. Indeed, May Dashwood began to smile when she saw Boreham approaching her. Something, however, in his manner made the smile fade away.
"Will you come over the house?" he asked, carefully putting his person between herself and Lady Dashwood so as to obliterate the latter lady. "I don't suppose Lady Dashwood wants to see it. Come along, Mrs. Dashwood."