Page:Kangaroo, 1923.pdf/137

 "They're not like English violets—or those big dark fellows in Italy," he said. "But still we persuade ourselves that they are violets."

"They're lovely. I feel I could warm my hands over them," she said.

"And now they're quite happy violets," he replied, smiling his rare, sweet smile at her. "Why are you taking the poet away from Sydney?"

"Lovat? He wants to go."

"Lovat! What a good name to call him by!" He turned to Somers, looking at him closely. "May I call you Lovat?"

"Better that than the poet," said Somers, lifting his nose slightly with aversion.

The other man laughed, but softly and happily.

"His muse he's not in love with," he murmured to himself.

"No, he prefers his own name," said Somers.

"But supposing now," said Kangaroo, as if alert and interested, "your name was Cooley: Benjamin Cooley—Ben, for short. You'd prefer even Kangaroo to that."

"In Australia the kangaroo is the king of beasts," said Somers.

sang the big man, continuing: "Won't you both come to dinner with the king of beasts? Won't you come too, Mrs Somers?"

"You know you only want Lovat, to talk your man's stuff."

"I'm not a man, I'm a kangaroo. Besides, yesterday I hadn't seen you. If I had known, my dear Somers, that your wife, who is at this moment in her room hastily changing her dress, was such a beautiful person—I don't say woman merely—I'd have invited you for her sake, and not for your own."

"Then I wouldn't have come," said Somers.

"Hear them, what a haughty pair of individuals! I suppose you expect the king of beasts to go down on his : knees to you, like the rest of democratic kings to their constituents. Won't you get ready, Mrs Somers?"