“I don’t understand,” said Bundle, wrinkling her nose.
“So confusing and contradictory,” complained Lord Caterham. “And before breakfast too.”
“What did you say?”
“Oh, I agreed, of course. It’s never any good arguing with these people. Especially before breakfast,” continued Lord Caterham, reverting to his principal grievance.
“Whom have you asked so far?”
“Cade. He was up very early this morning. He’s going to stop on. I don’t mind that. I can’t quite make the fellow out; but I like him—I like him very much.”
“So does Virginia,” said Bundle, drawing a pattern on the table with her fork.
“Eh?”
“And so do I. But that doesn’t seem to matter.”
“And I asked Isaacstein,” continued Lord Caterham.
“Well?”
“But fortunately he’s got to go back to town. Don’t forget to order the car for the 10.40, by the way.”
“All right.”
“Now if I can only get rid of Fish too,” continued Lord Caterham, his spirits rising.
“I thought you liked talking to him about your mouldy old books.”
“So I do, so I do. So I did, rather. But it gets monotonous when one finds that one is always doing all the talking. Fish is very interested, but he never volunteers any statements of his own.”
“It’s better than doing all the listening,” said Bundle. “Like one does with George Lomax.”
Lord Caterham shuddered at the remembrance.
“George is all very well on platforms,” said Bundle. “I’ve clapped him myself, though of course I know all the time that he’s talking balderdash. And anyway I’m a Socialist”
“I know, my dear, I know,” said Lord Caterham hastily.
“It’s all right,” said Bundle. “I’m not going to bring politics into the house. That’s what George does—public speaking in private life. It ought to be abolished by Act of Parliament.”
“Quite so,” said Lord Caterham.
“What about Virginia?” asked Bundle. “Is she to be asked to stop on?”
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