Make your bows to one another." Halcyone inclined her head with dignity, but Mr.Derringham only raised himself a little and said "Good afternoon." He did not care for children, and was busy with his old master discussing other things.
"You will pour out the tea, Halcyone, for us as usual," Cheiron said.
"Demetrius will bring it in a minute." And Halcyone sat down demurely upon the basket chair near the table and crossed her hands.
"I tell you I will not take their point of view," John Derringham said, continuing the conversation he had been carrying on before Halcyone arrived.

"Everything in England is spoilt by this pandering to the mediocrity.

A man may not make a speech but he must choose his words so that uneducated clods can grasp his meaning, he cannot advocate an idea with success unless it can appeal to the lower middle classes.

It is this subservience to them which has brought us to where we are.

No ideals--no lofty ends--just a means to each one's own hand.