He rearranged his papers, crackling them suggestively.
"Picnic this afternoon; going along ?" asked Lord Monckton, pausing by the portieres.
"Really, I am not a guest here; I am only private secretary to Mrs.
Killigrew.

If they treat me as a human being it is because they believe that charity should not play in grooves." "Ah! We are all open to a little charity." "That's true enough.

Good morning." "Beggar!" murmured Lord Monckton as he let the portieres fall behind him.
"Blighter!" muttered Thomas, staring malevolently at the empty doorway.
He would be glad when Mr.and Mrs.Crawford and the artist came down.
Forbes was a chap you could get along with anywhere, under any conditions.
Some time later Kitty came in.

She crossed immediately to the desk.
As Thomas looked up, she smiled at him.

It was the first smile of the kind he had witnessed, coming in his direction, since before that blunder on the tennis-courts.
"I found Lord Monckton's monocle, Mr.Webb.