even in the comparative seclusion of Thibet is unthinkable.
I very much doubt if she'd do it with her own husband in the
privacy of the Simplon tunnel. But poetry, as I've remarked
before, should always stimulate the imagination.

By the way, when you asked me the other day to dine with you
on the 14th, I said I was dining with the Duchess. Well, I'm
not. I'm dining with you.



THE INNOCENCE OF REGINALD



Reginald slid a carnation of the newest shade into the
buttonhole of his latest lounge coat, and surveyed the result
with approval. "I am just in the mood," he observed, "to
have my portrait painted by someone with an unmistakable
future. So comforting to go down to posterity as 'Youth with
a Pink Carnation' in catalogue--company with 'Child with
Bunch of Primroses,' and all that crowd."

"Youth," said the Other, "should suggest innocence."

"But never act on the suggestion. I don't believe the two
ever really go together. People talk vaguely about the
innocence of a little child, but they take mighty good care
not to let it out of their sight for twenty minutes. The
watched pot never boils over. I knew a boy once who really