Mrs.
Bullsom spread herself over her seat with a little sigh of relief.
Brooks gazed in silent wonder at the gilt-framed oleographs which hung thick upon the walls, and Mr.Bullsom stood up to carve a joint of beef.
"Plain fare, Mr.Brooks, for plain people," he remarked, gently elevating the sirloin on his fork, and determining upon a point of attack.

"We don't understand frills here, but we've a welcome for our friends, and a hearty one." "If there is anything in the world better than roast beef," Brooks remarked, unfolding his serviette, "I haven't found it." "There's one thing," Mr.Bullsom remarked, pausing for a moment in his labours, "I can give you a good glass of wine.

Ann, I think that if you look in the right-hand drawer of the sideboard you will find a bottle of champagne.

If not I'll have to go down into the cellar." Ann, however, produced it--which, considering that Mr.Bullsom had carefully placed it there a few hours ago, was not extraordinary--and Brooks sipped the wine with inward tremors, justified by the result.
"I suppose, Mr.Brooks," Selina remarked, turning towards him in an engaging fashion, "that you are a great politician.

I see your name so much in the papers." Brooks smiled.
"My political career," he answered, "dates from yesterday morning.