trend of our talk to the breaches and unrealities of the civilised scheme. We seemed a little transitory circle of light in a universe of darkness and violence; an effect to which the diminishing smell of burning rubber, the trampling of feet overhead, the swish of water, added enormously. Everybody—unless, perhaps, it was Evesham—drank rather carelessly because of the suppressed excitement of our situation, and talked the louder and more freely.
“But what a flimsy thing our civilisation is!” said Evesham; “a mere thin net of habits and associations!”
“I suppose those men came back,” said Wilkins.
“Lady Paskershortly did!” chuckled Evesham.
“How do they fit it in with the rest of their lives?” Wilkins speculated. “I suppose there's Pekin-stained police officers, Pekin-stained J. P.'s—trying petty pilferers in the severest manner.”...
Then for a time things became preposterous. There was a sudden cascade of water by the fireplace, and then absurdly the ceiling began to rain upon us, first at this point and then that. “My new suit!” cried some one. “Perrrrrr-up pe-rr”—a new vertical line of blackened water would establish itself and form a spreading pool upon the gleaming cloth. The men nearest would arrange catchment areas of plates and flower bowls. “Draw up!” said Tarvrille, “draw up. That's the bad end of the table!” He turned to the imperturbable butler. “Take round bath towels,” he said; and presently the men behind us were offering—with inflexible dignity—“Port wine, Sir. Bath towel, Sir!” Waulsort, with streaks of blackened water on his forehead, was suddenly reminded of a wet year when he had followed the French army manoeuvres. An animated dispute sprang up between him and Neal about the relative efficiency of the new French and German field