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228 were entering the dining-room, Jones observed humbly to the Infant and Towers:

"Excuse me, gentlemen; I 'ave 'ad to separate you from his lordship. We've 'ad such a influx of visitors for the Review, I've been 'ard put to it to squeeze them all in."

Those wretched cowards marched feebly to a new extremity of the table, while I walked to my usual seat near the window, with anger flaming duskily on my brow. This time I was determined. I would stick to table-beer all the same.

But before I dropped into my chair every trace of anger vanished. My heart throbbed violently, my dazzled eyes surveyed my serviette. At my side was one of the most charming girls I had ever met. When the Heidsieck came, I raised my glass as in a dream, and silently drank to the glorious creature nearest my heart—on the left hand.

We medicos are not easily upset by woman's beauty; we know too well what it is made of. But there was something so exquisite about this girl's face as to make a hardened materialist hesitate to resolve her into a physiological formula. It was not long before I offered to pass her the pepper. She declined with thanks and brevity. Her accent grated unexpectedly on my ear: I was puzzled to know why. I spoke of the rain that still tapped at the window, as if anxious to come in.

"It was raining when I left Paris," she said; "but up till then I had a lovely time."

Now I saw what was the matter. She suffered from twang and was American. I have always had a prejudice against Americans—chiefly, I believe, because they always seem to be having "a lovely time." It was with a sense of partial disenchantment that I continued the conversation:

"So you have been in Paris?" I said, thinking of the