Mrs. Chatteris (encouragingly, after they are seated). Now, I shall expect you to be very brilliant and entertaining. I'll do all the listening for once in a way—though, generally, I can talk about all manner of silly things with anybody!
Spurrell (extremely ill at ease). Oh—er—I should say you were equal to that. But I really can't think of anything to talk about.
Mrs. Chatt. That's a bad beginning. I always find the menu cards such a good subject when there's anything at all out of the common about them. If they're ornamented, you can talk about them—though not for very long at a time, don't you think?
Spurr. (miserably). I can't say how long I could go on about ornamented ones—but these are plain. (To himself.) I can hear this waistcoat going already; and we're only at the soup!
Mrs. Chatt. It is a pity. Never mind; tell me about literary and artistic people. Do you know I'm rather glad I'm not literary or artistic myself—it seems to make people so queer-looking, somehow. Oh, of course I didn't mean you looked queer—but generally, you know. You've made quite a success with your Andromeda, haven't you? I only go by what I'm told—I don't read much myself. We women have so many really serious matters to attend to—arranging about dinners, and visits, and trying on frocks, and then rushing about from party to party. I so seldom get a quiet moment. Ah, I knew I wanted to ask you something. Did you ever know anyone called Lady Grisoline?
Spurr. Lady—er—Grisoline? No; can't say I do. I know Lady Maisie, that's all.
Mrs. Chatt. Oh, and she was the original? Now, that is exciting! But I should hardly have recognised her—"lanky," you know, and "slanting green eyes." But I suppose you see everybody differently from other people? It's having so much imagination. I daresay I look green or something to you now—though really I'm not.
Spurr. (to himself). I don't understand more than about half she's saying. (Aloud.) Oh, I don't see anything particularly green about you.
Mrs. Chatt. (only partially pleased). I wonder if you meant that to be complimentary—no, you needn't explain. Now tell me, is there any news about the Laureateship? Who's going to get it? Will it be Swinburne or Lewis Morris?
Spurr. (to himself). Never heard of the stakes or the horses either. (Aloud.) Well, to tell you the truth, I haven't been following their form—too many of these small events nowadays.