Sunday Lunch

I didn't ask you to my lunch to wait until the food was served and then eat it and go. Beat your tom-tom, dear." When male meets male the greeting is shorter. "Glad you came." Takes guest aside. "I say, that French dancing woman's here. Over there--on the leopard skin--with the Chinese fan. Pitch into her, there's a good chap." The marionette reappears. "Lunch is served." They pay no attention whatever to the marionette, but walk defiantly into the dining-room as though they knew the fact perfectly well and had no need of the telling. They seat themselves, still with this air of immense unconcern, and a sort of "Whatever you give me to eat and the forks and knives thereof will not surprise me, I'm absolutely indifferent to food. I haven't the fai