We kept the unreasonable pair at Northlands as long as we could, doing all that lay in our power to restore Adrian's idiotically impaired health.

I motored him about the county; I took him to golf, a pastime at which I do not excel; and I initiated him into the invigorating mysteries of playing at robbers with Susan.

We gave a carefully selected dinner-party or two, and accepted on his behalf a few discreet invitations.

At these entertainments--whether at Northlands or elsewhere--we caused it to be understood that the lion, being sick, should not be asked to roar.
"It's so trying for him," said Doria, "when people he doesn't know come up and gush over 'The Diamond Gate'-- especially now when his nerves are on edge." On the occasion of our second dinner-party, the guests having been forewarned of the famous man's idiosyncrasies, no reference whatever was made to his achievements.

We sat him between two pretty and charming women who chattered amusingly to him with what I, who kept an eye open and an ear cocked, considered to be a very subtly flattering deference.
Adrian responded with adequate animation.