"You don't think I have it, do you?" Mrs. Selwyn asked coldly. She had been playing hostess to a couple of friends while the host slept.
"I don't know where it is; it's not here, anyhow." A terrific frown came over his face. "This accursed habit of tidying is making the house impossible to live in. One puts a thing down, and the next minute some interfering meddler picks it up and hides it, and then forgets where they put it. Curse everybody!"
Mrs. Selwyn grew very stiff. "Is this language meant for me? I shall not submit another moment to it. I am very pleased your cigarette case is lost. I hope it has gone for good. You are a perfect plague with your things. It is very good of anyone to touch them at all. In future they can lie where they drop as far as I am concerned."
"I hope everyone else will be equally kind. There may be a chance of finding things then. Life's not worth living as it is, with a troop of women following one about picking up every little thing one puts down and then losing it."
Selwyn shouted at the top of his voice. "Jane!" The parlourmaid came in. His smile was charming. "I've lost my cigarettes, Jane. They are nowhere to be found."
"The case is on the mantelpiece, sir, in the library, where you left it this afternoon."
"Ah!" Selwyn saved an awkward situation by finding a pipe and cleaning it. Mrs. Selwyn watched him keenly. He cried out suddenly.
"You women amuse me. You live in an agony of unrest in case a bit of ash gets on a chair or rug, and shorten your lives with the excitement of finding a fishing-bag with a few fish in it on a drawing-room sofa instead of in the kitchen. There never was a woman yet with a true idea of comfort. Hullo! chocolates here. They don't look bad at all." He proved his words by diving into the box and bringing out a handful, which he munched with obvious satisfaction.
"I believe in a man liking sweets. It shows he doesn't drink." He munched on a moment or two. Then he smiled with the charm that deceived guests into believing him a solicitous host. "Now who is going to play or sing? I am sure none of you are entertaining Harry as I should have done had health allowed. By the way though, I did hear some music. I think I must have been asleep. It was that sherry we had at dinner. It's a fatal thing to wet one's whistle with. A glass or two of sherry followed by the genial blaze of a good fire on the pit of the stomach, and the case is hopeless. I expect these chocolates will play up with my hollow tooth. It's a sad thing to arrive at my time of life and begin to feel oneself giving way everywhere. I can't get about as I used to. A hard day's shooting knocks me up." He shook his head in deeply sympathetic manner.
"Haven't you done enough talking about yourself?"