“So sorry to be so late,” she observed, making a rapid tour of inspection of the breakfast dishes.

“Did you have a good night?” asked her hostess with perfunctory solicitude.

“Quite, thank you,” said Lola; “I dreamt a most remarkable dream.”

A flutter, indicative of general boredom, went round the table. Other people’s dreams are about as universally interesting as accounts of other people’s gardens, or chickens, or children.

“I dreamt about the winner of the Derby,” said Lola.

A swift reaction of attentive interest set in.

“Do tell us what you dreamt,” came in a chorus.