“Turn over, Old Dear, while I chastise you!” he exclaimed, waving what looked to be a tortoiseshell lorgnon to which had been attached three threads of “cerulean” floss silk.
“Put it down, Lionel, and don’t be absurd.”
“Over we go. Come on.”
“Really, Lionel.”
“Penitence! To thy knees, Sir!”
And just as it seemed that the only son of Lord Intriguer was to be deprived of all his towels, the Ambassadress mercifully entered.
“Poor Mr Monteith!” she exclaimed in tones of concern bustling forward with a tablespoon and a bottle containing physic, “so unfortunate.... Taken ill at the moment you arrive! But Life is like that!”
Clad in the flowing circumstance of an oyster satin ball dress, and all a-glitter like a Christmas tree (with jewels), her arrival perhaps saved her guest a “whipping.”
“Had I known, Lady Something, I was going to be ill, I would have gone to the Ritz!” the Hon. ‘Eddy’ gasped.
“And you’d have been bitten all over!” Lady Something replied.