.

"And how do you like England, Miss Bennett?"

Billie's eye had lost its cheerful friendliness. A somewhat feline
expression had taken its place.

"Pretty well," she replied.

"You don't like it?"

"Well, the way I look at it is this. It's no use grumbling. One has got
to realise that in England one is in a savage country, and one should
simply be thankful one isn't eaten by the natives."

"What makes you call England a savage country?" demanded Sam, a staunch
patriot, deeply stung.

"What would you call a country where you can't get ice, central heating,
corn-on-the-cob, or bathrooms? My father and Mr. Mortimer have just
taken a house down on the coast and there's just one niggly little
bathroom in the place."

"Is that your only reason for condemning England?"

"Oh no, it has other drawbacks."

"Such as?"

"Well, Englishmen, for instance. Young Englishmen in particular. English
young men are awful! Idle, rude, conceited, and ridiculous."

Marlowe refused hock with a bitter intensity which nearly startled the
old retainer, who had just offered it to him, into dropping the
decanter.

"How many English young men have you met?"

Billie met his eye squarely and steadily. "Well, now that I come to
think of it, not many. In fact, very few. As a matter of fact, only...."

"Only?"

"Well, very few," said Billie. "Yes," she said meditatively, "I suppose
I really have been rather unjust. I should not have condemned a class
simply because ... I mean, I suppose there _are_ young Englishmen who
are not rude and ridiculous?"

"I suppose there are American girls who have hearts."

"Oh, plenty."

"I'll believe that when I meet one."

Sam paused. Cold aloofness was all very well, but this conversation was
developing into a vulgar brawl. The ghosts of dead and gone Marlowes,
all noted for their courtesy to the sex, seemed to stand beside his
chair, eyeing him reprovingly. His work, they seemed to whisper, was
becoming raw. It was time to jerk the interchange of thought back into
the realm of distant civility.

"Are you making a long stay in London, Miss Bennett?"

"No, not long. We are going down to the country almost immediately. I
told you my father and Mr. Mortimer had taken a house there."

"You will enjoy that."

"I'm sure I shall. Mr. Mortimer's son Bream will be there. That will be
nice."

"Why?" said Sam, backsliding.

There was a pause.

"_He_ isn't rude and ridiculous, eh?" said Sam gruf