He sat down and looked reproachfully at Miss Abercorn.
“I suppose it would never occur to such a woman that a man might want to play croquet?”
“Croquet, Parallax! My dear fellow, think of the Empire, and——”
“Hang the Empire. Here’s my whisky.”
“Don’t you think you had better make sure of it by going and drinking it in the shrubbery? She may follow you up to see what you’ve got to say on Eugenics.”
“Miss Abercorn, will you protect me? Really, I have had too much Minerva.”
“That apple! I always had a lot of sympathy with Paris. I think he was a particularly bright young man.”
“One word, Kex: has the lady a husband?”
“She has.”
“Thank God, and Heaven help him!”