I lunch or dine with a party, generally, because it happens so.
I lunch alone with you because it pleases me."
"And for this material side of our entertainment?" he enquired, smiling,
as he handed her the menu card.
"A grapefruit, a quail with white grapes, and some asparagus," she
replied promptly. "You see, in one respect I am an easy companion. I
know exactly what I want. A mixed vermouth, if you like, yes. And now,
tell me your news?"
"There is news," he announced, "which the whole world will know of
before many hours are past. France has broken her pact with England."
"It is my opinion," she said deliberately, "that France has been very
patient with you."
"And mine," he acknowledged. "We have now to see what will become of a
fat and prosperous country with a semi-obsolete fleet and a comic opera
army."
"Must we talk of serious things?" she asked softly. "I am weary of the
clanking wheels of life."
He sighed.
"And yet for you," he said, "they are not grinding out the fate of your
country."
"Nevertheless, I too hear them all the time," she rejoined. "And I hate
them. They make one lose one's sense of proportion. After all, it is our
own individual and internal life which counts. I can understand Nero
fiddling while Rome burned, if he really had no power to call up fire
engines."
"Are you an individualist?" he asked.
"Not fundamentally," she replied, "but I am caught up in the throes of a
great reaction.
Pages:
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140