"To the Transatlantic mind," responded Mr. Mafferton stiffly, "one can imagine it instructive."
"It was a revelation to mine," I said earnestly—"a revelation." Then, remembering Mr. Mafferton's somewhat painful connection with the revelation, I added carefully, "From a historic point of view. The Tower, you know, and all that."
"Ah!" said Mr. Mafferton, with a distant eye upon the Campagna.
It was really very difficult.
"Do you remember the day we went to Madame Tussaud's?" I asked. Perhaps my intonation was a little dreamy. "I shall never forget William the Conqueror—never."
"Yes—yes, I think I do." It was clearly an effort of memory.
"And now," I said regretfully, "it can never be the same again."
"Certainly not." He used quite unnecessary emphasis.
"William and the others having been since destroyed by fire," I continued. Mr. Mafferton looked foolish. "What a terrible scene that must have been! Didn't you feel when all that royal wax melted as if the dynasties of England had been wrecked over again! What effect did it have on dear old Victoria?"
"One question at a time," said Mr. Mafferton, and I think he smiled.