ady Harman contributed an
exceptionally alert and intelligent silence. Sir Markham distrusted Lady
Beach-Mandarin's communism and thought that anyhow it wouldn't do for a
financier or business man. He favoured an allowance. "So did Sir
Joshua," said the widow Viping. This roused Agatha Alimony. "Allowance
indeed!" she cried. "Is a wife to be on no better footing than a
daughter? The whole question of a wife's financial autonomy needs
reconsidering...."

Adolphus Blenker became learned and lucid upon Pin-money and dowry and
the customs of savage tribes, and Mr. Brumley helped with
corroboration....

Mr. Brumley managed to say just one other thing to Lady Harman before
the lunch was over. It struck her for a moment as being irrelevant. "The
gardens at Hampton Court," he said, "are delightful just now. Have you
seen them? Autumnal fires. All the September perennials lifting their
spears in their last great chorus. It's the _Goetterdaemmerung_ of the
year."

She was going out of the room before she appreciated his possible
intention.

Lady Beach-Mandarin delegated Sir Markham to preside over the men's
cigars and bounced and slapped her four ladies upstairs to the
drawing-room. Her mother disappeared and so did Phyllis and the
governess. Lady Harman heard a large aside to Lady Viping: "Isn't she
perfectly lovely?" glanced to discover the lorgnette in appreciative
action, and then found herself drifting into a secluded window-seat and
a duologue with Miss Agatha Alimony. Miss Alimony was one of that large
and increasing number of dusky, grey-eyed ladies who go through life
with an air of darkly incomprehensible significance. She led off Lady
Harman as though she took her away to reveal unheard-of mysteries and
her voice was a contralto undertone that she emphasized in some
inexplicable way by the magnetic use of her eyes. Her hat of cock's
feathers which rustled like familiar spirits greatly augmented the
profundity of her effect. As she spoke she glanced guardedly at the
other ladies at the end of the room and from first to last she seemed
undecided in her own mind whether she was a conspirator or a prophetess.
She had heard of Lady Harman before, she had been longing impatiently to
talk to her all through the lunch. "You are just what we want," said
Agatha. "What who want?" asked Lady Harman, struggling against the
hypnotic influence of her interlocutor. "_We_," said Miss Agatha, "the
Cause. The G.S.W.S.

"We want j