had been very agile, but as I sauntered out into the entresol of the
Hotel of Ritz-Carlton, to which I had given so great a shock in its
stately tea room, a finger was laid upon my arm in its gray tweed
coat. I turned and discovered a very fine and handsome woman standing
beside me and in her hand she had a book of white paper with also a
pencil.

"I was sitting just back of Willie Raines and I heard what he was
saying about some woman, whom he and Peter Scudder had met on the boat
over, not keeping her appointment with them. Peter is of the
Philadelphia elect and nobody knows why he consorts with the gay
Willie. I saw them come off the boat together this morning and I knew
that the whole Scudder Meeting House would be in a glum over their
being together. Would you mind telling me just why you soused your tea
into his face? It would make a corking story for my morning edition.
Did you know them or did you know the lady or did you do it to be
launcelotting?"

"I think it must have been for the third of those reasons, Madam, but
I am not sure that I know the word you use," I answered with much
caution.

"Launcelot, you know, the boy that was always fussing around over
injured women, in Tennyson or somewhere, just for a love of 'em that
was always perfectly proper. Nice of him but not progressive. Say, do
you mind sitting down in a quiet corner of the tea room and telling me
all about it? Are you French or Russian or Brazilian, and do you
believe in women, or is it just because you like 'em that you threw
the tea? I've got a suffrage article to do and I believe you'd make a
good headline, with your militant tea throwing. Want to tell me all