Can I have a little more oil with my salad, please, steward, and I should like some French white wine." Mr.Raymond Greene took what appeared to be a positive disappointment very good-naturedly.
"Well," he said, "I dare say you are both right, and in any case I shouldn't like to persist in a point of view which might naturally enough become distressing to our young friend here.

Tell you what I'll do to show my penitence.

I shall order a bottle of wine, and we'll drink to the welfare of the missing Mr.Philip Romilly, wherever he may be.

Pommery, steward, and bring some ice along." Philip pushed away his whisky and soda.
"Just in time," he remarked.

"I'll drink to poor Philip's welfare, with pleasure, although he hasn't been an unmixed blessing to his family." The subject passed away with the drinking of the toast, and with the necessity for a guard upon himself gone, Philip found himself eating and drinking mechanically, watching all the time the woman who sat opposite to him, who had now engaged Mr.Raymond Greene in an animated conversation on the subject of the suitability for filming of certain recent plays.