P.P.C.

'It always seems to me so unlike you,' Aylmer said (he had arrived
punctually at twenty minutes to four)--'your extreme fondness for
newspapers. You're quite celebrated as a collector of Last Editions,
aren't you?'

'I know it's very unliterary of me, but I enjoy reading newspapers
better than reading anything else in the world. After all, it's
contemporary history, that's my defence. But I suppose it is because
I'm so intensely interested in life.'

'Tell me exactly, what papers do you really read?'

She laughed. 'Four morning papers--never mind their names--four
evening papers; five Sunday papers: _The Academy, The Saturday Review,
The Bookman, The World, The English Review_.'

'Well, I think it's wicked of you to encourage all this frivolity. And
what price _The Queen, Horrie Notes, or The Tatler_?'

'Oh, we have those too--for Bruce.'

'And does Archie show any of this morbid desire for journalism?'

'Oh yes. He takes in _Chums and Little Folks_.'

'And I see you're reading _Rhythm_. That's Vincy's fault, of course.'

'Perhaps it is.'