“Well, why not go as Caesar’s Wife, above reproach, you know. You could have a hobble edging of scandalous newspaper paragraphs in a sort of Plimsoll Line round the base of your skirt, and you’d be above it all, you see.”

“Might I ask what you are going as?” said Mrs. Pendercoet severely.

“I’m going as ‘Peace persuading the German war fleet to take Antipon.’ ”

The idea took some seconds to grasp.

“I don’t see how you can possibly manage that,” she objected.

“I can’t. That’s where the resemblance will come in.”

There was an offended silence which the Artist hastened to break.