Already I'm told that, from some flippant and unguarded expressions considered derogatory to Baker Street and Harley Street, rents have fallen in these respectable quarters; and orders have been issued that at least Mr.Snob shall be asked to parties there no more.
Well, then--now they are ALL away, let us frisk at our ease, and have at everything like the bull in the china-shop.

They mayn't hear of what is going on in their absence, and, if they do they can't bear malice for six months.

We will begin to make it up with them about next February, and let next year take care of itself.

We shall have no dinners from the dinner-giving Snobs: no more from the ball-givers: no more CONVERSAZIONES (thank Mussy! as Jeames says,) from the Conversaziones Snob: and what is to prevent us from telling the truth?
The snobbishness of Conversazione Snobs is very soon disposed of: as soon as that cup of washy bohea is handed to you in the tea-room; or the muddy remnant of ice that you grasp in the suffocating scuffle of the assembly upstairs.
Good heavens! What do people mean by going there?
What is done there, that everybody throngs into those three little rooms?
Was the Black Hole considered to be an agreeable REUNION, that Britons in the dog-days here seek to imitate it?
After being rammed to a jelly in a door-way (where you feel your feet going through Lady Barbara Macbeth's lace flounces, and get a look from that haggard and painted old harpy, compared to which the gaze of Ugolino is quite cheerful); after withdrawing your elbow out of poor gasping Bob Guttleton's white waistcoat, from which cushion it was impossible to remove it, though you knew you were squeezing poor Bob into an apoplexy--you find yourself at last in the reception-room, and try to catch the eye of Mrs.Botibol, the CONVERSAZIONE-giver.

When you catch her eye, you are expected to grin, and she smiles too, for the four hundredth time that night; and, if she's very glad to see you, waggles her little hand before her face as if to blow you a kiss, as the phrase is.
Why the deuce should Mrs.Botibol blow me a kiss?
I wouldn't kiss her for the world.