many inches and little brains," she laughed. "Come, Lorraine, spout
away. What is your favourite hors d'oeuvre? Did you feel like a
boiled owl at your first appearance? And which horse do you back for
next year's Derby?"

She started scribbling, to the amusement of the other two, carrying on
a desultory conversation meanwhile.

"This isn't anything to do with my department, but I like Mr. Hadley,
and he was keen about it, and offered me three guineas, so I said I'do
do it... Are your eyes yellow or green? For the life of me, I don't
know. Which would you rather I called them? ... I've got to go to
Marlboro' House to-morrow to get up a short and vivid account of a
garden party, because Miss Alton, who generally does it, is down with
'flu'. Were you a prodigal as a kid? no; I mean a prodigy... Fancy me
at Marlboro' House! Awful thought, isn't it? How they dare?

"What is your favourite pastime? Shall I put down shooting? I know
you don't know one end of a gun from the other, but it doesn't matter;
and it reads rather well - something unique about it in an actress."

"Why not put angling, and give some of my dear enemies a chance to ask
what for?"

"Or jam-making," suggested Alymer, "and redeem the stage in the eyes of
the British matron."

"Oh, don't talk... how can I write? Shall I bring myself in, and dig
up the dear old chestnut of David and Jonathan?... or shall I describe
Dudley's disapproval melting into undisguised worship," she rippled