his time, but the
scrimmage of the stewards and the police with those women----!'
Farnborough ended with an expressive gesture.

'If it was as horrible as that for Major Wilkinson to look on at--what
must it have been for those girls?' It was Miss Levering speaking. She
seemed to have abandoned the hope of being taken for a stroll, and was
leaning forward, chin in hand, looking at the fringe of the teacloth.

Richard Farnborough glanced at her as if he resented the note of
wondering pity in the low tone.

'It's never so bad for the lunatic,' he said, 'as for the sane people
looking on.'

'Oh, I don't suppose _they_ mind,' said Hermione--'women like _that_.'

'It's flattery to call them women. They're sexless monstrosities,' said
Paul Filey.

'You know some of them?' Vida raised her head.

'_I?_' Filey's face was nothing less than aghast at the mere suggestion.

'But you've seen them----?'

'Heaven forbid!'

'But I suppose you've gone and listened to them haranguing the crowds.'

'Now _do_ I look like a person who----'

'Well, you see we're all so certain they're such abominations,' said
Vida, 'I thought maybe some of us knew something about them.'

Dick Farnborough was heard saying to Lord John in a tone of cheerful
vigour--

'Locking up is too good for 'em. I'd give 'em a good thrashin'.'

'Spirited fellow!' said Miss Levering, promptly, with an accent that
brought down a laugh on the young gentleman's head.

He joined in it, but with a _naif_ uneasiness. What's the matter with
the woman?--his vaguely bewildered face seemed to inquire. After all,
I'm only agreeing with her.

'Few of us have time, I imagine,' said Filey, 'to go and listen to their
ravings.'

As Filey was quite the idlest of men, without the preoccupation of being
a tolerable sportsman or even a player of games, Miss Levering's little
laugh was echoed by others beside Lady Sophia.

'At all events,' said Vida to Lord Borrodaile, as she stood up, and he
drew her chair out of her way, 'even if we don't know much about these
women, we've spent a happy hour denouncing them.'

'Who's going to have a short round before sundown?' said Lady Sophia,
getting up briskly. '_You_, of course, Mr. Filey. Or are you too
"busy"?'

'Say too thirsty. May I?' He carried his cup round to Lady John, not
seeming to see Hermione's hospitable hand held out for it.

In the general shuffle Farnborough found himself carried off by Sophia
and Lord John.