ng it in reserve against the ultimate
failure of his face. Charterson surveyed her through an immense pause
open-mouthed; then he turned his large now frozen amiability upon his
host. "These are Awful questions," he gasped, "rather beyond Us don't
you think?" and then magnificently; "Harman, things are looking pretty
Queer in the Far East again. I'm told there are chances--of
revolution--even in Pekin...."

Lady Harman became aware of Snagsby's arm and his steady well-trained
breathing beside her as, tenderly almost but with a regretful
disapproval, he removed her plate....

Sec.8

If Lady Harman had failed to remark at the time the deep impression her
words had made upon her hearers, she would have learnt it later from the
extraordinary wrath in which Sir Isaac, as soon as his guests had
departed, visited her. He was so angry he broke the seal of silence he
had set upon his lips. He came raging into the pink bedroom through the
paper-covered door as if they were back upon their old intimate footing.
He brought a flavour of cigars and manly refreshment with him, his
shirt front was a little splashed and crumpled and his white face was
variegated with flushed patches.

"What ever d'you mean," he cried, "by making a fool of me in front of
those fellers?... What's my business got to do with you?"

Lady Harman was too unready for a reply.

"I ask you what's my business got to do with you? It's _my_ affair, _my_
side. You got no more right to go shoving your spoke into that
than--anything. See? What do _you_ know of the rights and wrongs of
business? How can _you_ tell what's right and what isn't right? And the
things you came out with--the things you came out with! Why
Charterson--after you'd gone Charterson said, she doesn't know, she
can't know what she's talking about! A decent woman! a _lady_! talking
of driving girls on the street. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! You
aren't fit to show your face.... It's these damned papers and pamphlets,
all this blear-eyed stuff, these decadent novels and things putting
narsty thoughts, _narsty dirty_ thoughts into decent women's heads. It
ought to be rammed back down their throats, it ought to be put a stop
to!"

Sir Isaac suddenly gave way to woe. "What have I _done_?" he cried,
"what have I done? Here's everything going so well! We might be the
happiest of couples! We're rich, we got everything we want.... And then
you go harbouring these ideas, fooling about with