_sine quâ non_ in a novel of the Modernist school."

But Lallie _couldn't_ see the dif between a man and a novelist, and
Algy _couldn't_ write his best seller without studying its heroine,
and so--and so--at last our poor prize couple are in that long list
that an overworked judge complained of the other day. And if you ask
for the moral I suppose it's "Don't try to study character where there
isn't any."

This is emphatically a season for _arms_, my Daphne, which seems quite
a good little idea for peace-time! Faces and figures don't count; it's
the arm, the whole arm and nothing but the arm! There are all sorts
of stunts for attracting attention to round white arms, and if one has
the other kind one had better go and do a rest-cure. Your Blanche is
beyond criticism in that respect, as you know, and the other night at
the opera I'd a _succès fou_ with a big black-enamel beetle, held in
place by an invisible platinum chain, crawling on my upper arm.

Lady Manoeuvrer is simply _ravie de joie_ at the rage for arms, for
her Daffodil, who's been a great worry to her (she's the only clever
one, you know, all the others being pretty), has the best arms of the
whole bunch. She's taken Madame Fallalerie's course, "The Fascination
of the Arms," and is made to flourish hers about from morn to
night, poor child, till she sometimes does a small weep from sheer
exhaustion. The other day at Kempford Races, in a no-sleeved coatee
with a black sticking-plaster racehorse in full gallop on her upper
arm, she attracted plenty of attention and had two offers, I hear.
Arms and the man, again!

_À propos_, Lady Manoeuvrer told me yesterday she'd sent a