"A meat-jack, I mean--or a--I know not vat you
call it. Ach, I vant a leetle fun, Alicia."

"A little fun," repeated the Baroness in a breathless
voice. "What kind of fun?"

"I know not," said he, turning once more to stare
out of the window.

To this dignified representative of a particularly
dignified State even the trees of Belgrave Square seemed at
that moment a trifle too conventionally perpendicular.
If they would but dance and wave their boughs he would
have greeted their greenness more gladly. A good-looking
nursemaid wheeled a perambulator beneath their
shade, and though she never looked his way, he took a
wicked pleasure in surreptitiously closing first one eye
and then the other in her direction. This might not
entirely satisfy the aspirations of his soul, yet it seemed
to serve as some vent for his pent-up spirit. He turned
to his spouse with a pleasantly meditative air.

"I should like to see old Bonker vunce more," he
observed.

"Bunker? You mean Mr. Mandell-Essington?" said
she, with an apprehensive note in her voice.

"To me he vill alvays be Bonker."