“Infernal Bedlam,” he broke out: “the house is sheer pandemonium.”
“I found it so too, dear,” Lady Something agreed; “and so,” she added, removing a fallen tree-bug tranquilly from her hair, “I’ve been digesting my letters out here upon the lawn.”
“And no doubt,” Sir Somebody murmured, fixing the placid person of his wife, with a keen psychological glance: “you succeed, my dear, in digesting them?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“...” the Ambassador displayed discretion.
“We’re asked to a Lion hunt in the Land of Dates; quite an entreating invitation from the dear Queen—; really most pressing and affectionate, but Princess Elsie’s nuptial negotiations and this pending Procès with the Ritz, may tie us here for some time.”
“Ah Rosa.”
“Why these constant moans? ...? A clairvoyant once told me I’d ‘the bump of Litigation’—a cause célèbre unmistakably defined; so it’s as well, on the whole, to have it over.”
“And quite probably; had your statement been correct——”
The Ambassadress gently glowed