'you look' (_sotto voce_) 'simply wonderful! I think you have met Mr.
Norton Pyford, _the_ Norton Pyford, haven't you?'

'Hah d' ye do?' said the Pyford.

'Chairmed,' minced Madame Carlotti.

'Lucia, take this chair by the fire. You must be frozen.'

'Ah, _grazie_, Sybil. What a perfectly meeserable climate you have in
this London!'

'Just what I tha-a-y,' bleated Mr. Pyford, sinking into his chair in an
apparently boneless heap. 'The other night, at a fella's
thupper-party, I'----

'MRS. LE ROY JENNINGS.'

The resolutionist swept into the room clothed in black disorder, much
as if she had started to dress in a fit of temper and had been
overtaken by a gale.

She knew Madame Carlotti.--She did _not_ know Mr. Norton Pyford, _the_
Norton Pyford.--She was glad to know him.

He muttered something inarticulate, and glancing at the ring of women
about him, shrank into his clothes until his collar almost hid his
lower lip.

'We were discussing,' said Lady Durwent, vaguely relying on the last