Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman
Thus: you might choose the Prime Minister and set out your qualities—statesmanship, force, honesty, courage, eloquence, amiability, good looks, personal charm and so on and so forth; each of us had ten marks for each quality, and, if you liked, you might give two for statesmanship and four for eloquence and ten for courage; then, when we had all expressed our opinion—it was in secret, and no one saw what marks any one else was allotting—the totals were added and read out. That was the man’s “character.” . . .
An absurd game! But, as they were too unintelligent to talk and too disobliging to play or sing. . . Will was writing down the questions, and there seems no limit to the number that may be asked.
“And what is to be the first name?” I enquired.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “You must take the whole lot in turn. Begin with me, if you like.”
Then indeed I had to make a protest. I had never imagined that we were to play with the names of the people actually in the room at that moment! More execrable taste. . . I was only thankful that Will had not proposed so detestable a game and was sorry to see him taking such a lead in it. Personalities of all
95
