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Updated: May 8, 2025
'I'm certainly not going to become a professional critic like Stackton Dunckley, who hasn't even the excuse that he's an Irishman; or Lucia Carlotti, who hardly ever leaves London because her dinners cost her nothing. But I reserve the right of personal resentment.
He is so persistent. There will be just half-a-dozen unusual people there, my dear, so don't fail me. Dinner will be at 8.30. So sincerely, SYBIL DERWENT. 'P.S. Don't you think you could make Stackton interested in you? Your husband is away so much. Madame Carlotti smiled with her teeth and drank some very strong coffee.
'List to the pigmy praising the oracle, chanted the artist. 'I do not think, went on the American, 'that the English girls I have met are as bright or as clever as the cultured young women of the continent of America. In other words, with all her natural charm, the English girl does not edit herself well. 'In that, said H. Stackton Dunckley, 'she reflects the breed.
'DEAREST LUCIA, I am counting on you for next Friday. A young American author studying England I suppose like that Count Something-or-other in Pickwick Papers is coming to dinner. I understand he drinks very little, so I am relying on you to thaw him. 'Stackton Dunckley insists upon coming, though I tell him that it is dangerous; and of course people are saying dreadful things, I know.
'Lady Durwent, said the futurist, 'all art is philosophy even old Pyford's here, though his amounts almost to theology. For a few minutes the conversation drifted in inconsequential channels until H. Stackton Dunckley becalmed everything with a laborious dissertation on the lack of literary taste in both England and America.
H. Stackton Dunckley had held the resolutionist in a duel of language a combat with broadswords and honours were fairly even. The short-sleeved Johnston Smyth had waged futurist warfare against the modernist Pyford, while the Honourable Miss Durwent sat helplessly between them, with as little chance of asserting her rights as the Dormouse at the Mad Hatter's tea-party.
Pyford, put in Lady Durwent, descrying a storm on the yellow and black horizon, 'has just written' 'MR. H. STACKTON DUNCKLEY, announced the butler, with an appropriate note of mysterioso.
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