The girl was intensely amused.
“Oh, certainly, Lord Edmund,” she replied, assuming an elaborately refined accent.
Danby kept it up.
“Do you find the glare of the electric light too much for you? Shall I complain about the orchestra?”
“One must endure these things in these places, your lordship. Were you riding in the Row this morning?”
“Yaas.” Danby twirled an imaginary moustache. “I had a canter. My mare cast a shoe—sixteen buttons. I rode her so hard that she strained her hemlock. She’s a good little mare. Has fourteen hands, and plenty of action. She’s a bit of a roarer, but then her mother was ridden by a Cabinet Minister.”
“You haven’t taken to a car, then?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve got one Fit and two Damlers. The annoying thing is, I’ve just lost my chauffeur.”
“Oh, really? How?”
“He dropped an oath into the petrol-tank and was seen no more.”