es hang on!'

Again I plied him with that spur. As it seemed not to prick him, I
repeated the words he had last spoken. 'For instance?' I added.

'Take,' he said, 'a certain evening in the spring of '95. If, on that
evening, the Duchess of Hertfordshire had had a bad cold; or if she
had decided that it WOULDN'T be rather interesting to go on to that
party--that Annual Soiree, I think it was--of the Inkwomen's Club; or
again--to go a step further back--if she hadn't ever written that one
little poem, and if it HADN'T been printed in "The Gentlewoman," and if
the Inkwomen's committee HADN'T instantly and unanimously elected her an
Honorary Vice-President because of that one little poem; or if--well,
if a million-and-one utterly irrelevant things hadn't happened,
don't-you-know, I shouldn't be here.... I might be THERE,' he smiled,
with a vague gesture indicating England.

'Suppose,' he went on, 'I hadn't been invited to that Annual Soiree; or
suppose that other fellow,--

'Braxton?' I suggested. I had remembered Braxton at the moment of
recognising Maltby.

'Suppose HE hadn't been asked.... But of course we both were. It
happened that I was the first to be presented to the Duchess.... It was
a great moment. I hoped I should keep my head. She wore a tiara. I had
often seen women in tiaras, at the Opera. But I had never talked to
a woman in a tiara. Tiaras were symbols to me. Eyes are just a human
feature. I fixed mine on the Duchess's. I kept my head by not looking
at hers. I behaved as one human being to another. She seemed very
intelligent. We got on very well. Presently she asked whether I should
think her VERY bold if she said how PERFECTLY divine she thought my
book. I said something about doing my best, and asked with animation
whether she had read "A Faun on the Cotswolds." She had. She said it was
TOO wonderful, she said it was TOO great. If she hadn't been a Duchess,
I might have thought her slightly hysterical. Her innate good-sense
quickly reasserted itself. She used her great power. With a wave of her
magic wand she turned into a fact the glittering possibility that had
haunted me. She asked me down to Keeb.

'She seemed very pleased that I would come. Was I, by any chance, free
on Saturday week? She hoped there would be some amusing people to meet
me. Could I come by the 3.30? It was only an hour-and-a-quarter from
Victoria. On Saturday there were always compartments reserved for people
coming to Keeb b