Mr. Bull. Humph! Pam had perhaps his reasons, which, in the light of subsequent events, one must admit not to have been without their weight.
Madame France. Oh, Monsieur Bull! "Greater freedom of intercourse between nations is the tendency of our industrial and social development, and the tide of human intelligence cannot be arrested by vague fears." So I read in a pamphlet on the Tunnel. How true, is it not?
Mr. Bull. Doubtless; as true as that the tide of invasion could not be arrested by cosmopolitan cant.
Madame France. Invasion? Fie, Monsieur Bull! In the new lexicon of international amity there is no such word.
Mr. Bull. If the excision of the word could absolutely abolish the possibility of the thing, all would be well—between you and Germany, for instance.
Madame France. Sacre-e-e! I beg pardon. Expletives should also be banished from civility's lexicon. But Bismarck is a monstre, a miserable,—whereas you——! [Bows sweetly.
Mr. Bull. Inarticulate flattery, Madam, is irresistible—and unanswerable. The renewal—if, indeed, it was ever really interrupted—of the entente cordiale between us, is a blessed boon not to be matched in value by a hundred—Tunnels!
Madame France. And this Convention is the sign and seal of that renewal, n'est-ce-pas? I knew you never intended to stop in Egypt.
Mr. Bull. Longer than was necessary—assuredly not, Madam. And I was certain the New Hebrides had no real charms to permanently arrest your feet.
Madame France. Though a pied à terre in Raraitea, of course—you comprehend, Monsieur!