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Updated: June 6, 2025
"It's the Farrenden girl," replied Mr. Cuthbert, whose business it was to know everybody. "Chicago wheat. She looks like Ceres, doesn't she? Quite becoming to Reggie's dark beauty. She was sixteen, they tell me, when the old gentleman emerged from the pit, and they packed her off to a convent by the next steamer.
I have often longed to see you in Japan, but I never thought you would come; and let me take your coat off. You will find it quite warm indoors." It was warm indeed. There was the heat of a green-house in Reggie's artistically ordered room. It was larger too than on the occasion of Geoffrey's visit; for the folding doors which led into a further apartment were thrown open.
'It was in the box-room, where the spare coats and the fishing baskets are kept, said Tricksy. 'I went to see if Reggie's knife was in the pocket of his old great-coat, and when I pulled it off the shelf this fluttered down. 'Well, said Allan, while the others were dumb with astonishment, 'this beats me altogether. It wasn't we who were the thieves!
The two girls were sitting together now on the big black cushion in front of the fire. They were looking at a portfolio of Japanese prints, Reggie's embryo collection. The young diplomat said to his friend: "Geoffrey, you've not been in the East long enough to be exasperated by it. I have. So our ideas will not be in sympathy." "It's not what I thought it was going to be, I must admit.
But for me nineteen-ten is the year of other things, the things that happened in the family, the year of Reggie's return and all the misery that came from it, the year of Viola's struggle the agony of which we, Norah and I, were the helpless spectators. She never said a word to us. It was Norah who conveyed to me the secret, intimate shock of it.
A burst of song was the only adequate expression of the mood of heavenly happiness which this young man's revelations had brought upon him. The whole world seemed different. Wings seemed to sprout from Reggie's shapely shoulders. The air was filled with soft music. Even the wallpaper seemed moderately attractive. He mixed himself a second whisky and soda. It was the next best thing to singing.
Personality has faded out of politics. Everything is business, now, concessions, vested interests, dividends and bond-holders. These diplomats are not real people at all. They are shadowy survivals of the grand siècle, wraiths of Talleyrand; or else just restless bagmen. I don't call that a career." Geoffrey had listened to these tirades before. It was Reggie's froth.
Reggie's remarks about his liver had struck home, and it had been his intention, by way of a corrective to his headache and a general feeling of swollen ill-health, to do a little work before his bath with a pair of Indian clubs. He had arrayed himself for this purpose in an old sweater, a pair of grey flannel trousers, and patent leather evening shoes.
Then the salesman was guilty of a serious mistake, for as he pulled down the little coat and patted the shoulders he said: "This is a standard cut, madam, which is always popular, and we sell a great many of them for both boys and girls." Girls! Reggie's mother stiffened, and with withering scorn declared that she did not wish Reggie to wear a girl's coat. She would look at something else.
The two tall footmen, more rigidly supercilious in their powdered hair than ever, were already arranging the ecstatic and amazed little choir boys in their seats. Windsor took her seat, with Mr. Smith, who had just arrived, Madame Valtesi, and Lady Locke. Lord Reggie and Esmé Amarinth sat among the boys at the ends of the two sides of the horse-shoe. Tommy was on Lord Reggie's right hand.
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