"I can't see what particular amusement you find in
watching two men prodding little ivory balls about on a table."
"Oh, well," said her hostess, "it's a way of passing the time, you know."
"A very poor way, to my mind," said Mrs. Thundleford; "now I was going to
have shown all of you the photographs I took in Venice last summer."
"You showed them to us last night," said Mrs. Cuvering hastily.
"Those were the ones I took in Florence. These are quite a different
lot."
"Oh, well, some time to-morrow we can look at them. You can leave them
down in the drawing-room, and then every one can have a look."
"I should prefer to show them when you are all gathered together, as I
have quite a lot of explanatory remarks to make, about Venetian art and
architecture, on the same lines as my remarks last night on the
Florentine galleries. Also, there are some verses of mine that I should
like to read you, on the rebuilding of the Campanile. But, of course, if
you all prefer to watch Major Latton and Mr. Strinnit knocking balls
about on a table--"
"They are both supposed to be first-rate players," said the hostess.
"I have yet to learn that my verses and my art _causerie_ are of second-
rate quality," said Mrs.
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