"I don't usually stand at the back of the pit," she said. "The last time Fred took me we had stalls."
"How—how jolly!" I murmured. "I was thinking of—of——"
"If you please, Mr. Fred would like some soda-water and a few biscuits taken up, Ma'am," said the servant, entering softly.
I rose.
"Must you go?" protested my conversationalist. "Oh, I am so sorry! But come again soon—you have kept me quite lively. Good-bye."
I took the tube to Charing Cross and changed there for Putney and Ethel. (Did I mention that her name was Ethel?) But when I told Ethel about it afterwards she said she thought sarcasm in elderly ladies was very objectionable.
COMMERCIAL ART.
Across the sundering gulf of time
I lift a song to you,
Melodious as a minster chime,
Loud, I expect, as two.
Years have flown swiftly since we met;
Do you, remembered one, forget
The rapturous moment and sublime
When I drew near to you? I bet
A half-a-crown you do.