“Is this a funeral party? Has the weight of our feelings made us dumb? Can’t any of you say something?”
That kind of remark always afflicts people’s tongues with a sort of paralysis. I was perfectly well aware of it. That was why I made it. They stumbled through some idiotic efforts to clothe with words ideas which they did not happen to possess just then. Then I created a diversion.
“I believe I would rather not dine at Dupont’s. I think I’ve heard stories about it which show that it is not quite the place for ladies. It seems strange that Mr Hammond should have made the suggestion.”
“Excuse me, Miss Norah, the suggestion——”
“Yes?”
I knew that he was about to say that it came from me. But I stopped him in time. Then he stopped himself—rather neatly.
“The suggestion—was—only a suggestion.”
“It is a pity that it got even as far as a suggestion. Can you not tell us of some place, Mr Rumford, where it’s respectable?”
“They feed you decently at the Imperial.”
“Then by all means let us go where they feed you decently.”