"No, he's not such a bunger," and dashed off towards the paddock.
"Where does he get those words?" thought Lady Locke to herself, preparing to go to her own breakfast.
She found Lord Reggie alone in the room reading his letters. He was dressed in loose white flannel, and in the buttonhole of his thin jacket a big green carnation was stuck. It looked perfectly fresh.
"How do you manage to keep that flower alive so long?" asked Lady Locke, as they sat down opposite to one another. For there was no formality at this meal, and people began just when they felt inclined.
"I don't understand," Reggie answered, looking at her across his mushrooms.
"Why, you have worn it for two days already."
"This? No. Esmé and I have some sent down every morning from a florist's in Covent Garden."
"Really! Is it worth while?"
"I think that sort of thing is the only sort of thing that is worth while. Most people are utterly wrong, they worship what they call great things. I worship little details. This flower is a detail. I worship it."
"Do you regard it as an emblem, then?"