Page:Firecrackers a realistic novel.pdf/171

 Do you think it's a moral act to take off so many vocal clothes?

Madame Madrilena rolled her eyes. It's good for these people, she explained. They're so middle-class. Look at those flowers—she pointed to the epergne on the table—even the flowers are middle-class. Utterly lacking in passion. I think I'd like to sing for them, too. They need a dash of sex!

I should think you are the one to give it to them, Gareth suggested.

I wish I might. I have only men to experiment on. Why were men made for women? They understand them so little.

I have heard of substitutes, Florizel muttered.

Mr. Humphry Pollanger had returned, carefully bearing a carafe half-full of an amber fluid. Here it is! he cried.

Don't crow too loud, old rooster, Jack counselled. There won't be enough for the crowd, you know.

He's pouring it out in the largest goblets, thank God! Florizel noted. That's the way to serve good brandy, just a little in the bottom so that the fumes fill the glass with an exquisite bouquet, but no one in this country seems to know it.

There isn't any good brandy in this country, unless this is it, declared Paul, who had joined them.

Silent now, each with glass to his nose, they savoured the rich aroma.

Great stuff, old fellow! Jack's was the first appreciation. Napoleonic, you said?