Ask them to lunch with you at the Ritz or
somewhere."
"From the little I've seen of the Smithly-Dubbs I don't thing I want to
cultivate their acquaintance," said Lady Drakmanton.
"They always work for us at election times," said her husband; "I don't
suppose they influence very many votes, but they have an uncle who is on
one of my ward committees, and another uncle speaks sometimes at some of
our less important meetings. Those sort of people expect some return in
the shape of hospitality."
"Expect it!" exclaimed Lady Drakmanton; "the Misses Smithly-Dubb do more
than that; they almost demand it. They belong to my club, and hang about
the lobby just about lunch-time, all three of them, with their tongues
hanging out of their mouths and the six-course look in their eyes. If I
were to breathe the word 'lunch' they would hustle me into a taxi and
scream 'Ritz' or 'Dieudonne's' to the driver before I knew what was
happening."
"All the same, I think you ought to ask them to a meal of some sort,"
persisted Sir James.
"I consider that showing hospitality to the Smithly-Dubbs is carrying
Free Food principles to a regrettable extreme," said Lady Drakmanton;
"I've entertained the Joneses and the Browns and the Snapheimers and the
Lubrikoffs, and heaps of others whose names I forget, but I don't see why
I should inflict the society of the Misses Smithly-Dubb on myself for a
solid hour.
Pages:
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77