George filled his own pipe. The thing was becoming a love-feast.
"What was I saying?" said Lord Marshmoreton, blowing a comfortable cloud. "Oh, yes." He removed his pipe from his mouth with a touch of embarrassment. "Yes, yes, to be sure!"
There was an awkward silence.
"You must see for yourself," said the earl, "how impossible it is."
George shook his head.
"I may be slow at grasping a thing, but I'm bound to say I can't see that."
Lord Marshmoreton recalled some of the things his sister had told him to say. "For one thing, what do we know of you? You are a perfect stranger."
"Well, we're all getting acquainted pretty quick, don't you think? I met your son in Piccadilly and had a long talk with him, and now you are paying me a neighbourly visit."
"This was not intended to be a social call."
"But it has become one."