d languishing poses for her in
the boat. My imagination was equal to the task of seeing her as Simon
Fuge saw her. I did so see her. I recalled Simon Fuge's excited
description of the long night in the boat, and I could reconstitute the
night from end to end. And there the identical creature stood before
me, the creature who had set fire to Simon Fuge, one of the 'wonderful
creatures' of the Gazette, ageing, hardened, banal, but momentarily
restored to the empire of romance by those unshed, glittering tears. As
an experience it was worth having.

She could not speak, and we did not. I heard the commercial traveller
reading: '"The motion was therefore carried by twenty-five votes to
nineteen, and the Countess of Chell promised that the whole question of
the employment of barmaids should be raised at the next meeting of the
B.W.T.S." There! what do you think of that?'

Miss Annie Brett moved quickly towards the commercial traveller.

Til tell you what _I_ think of it,' she said, with ecstatic resentment.
'I think it's just shameful! Why should the Countess of Chell want to
rob a lot of respectable young ladies of their living? I can tell you
they're just as respectable as the Countess of Chell is--yes, and
perhaps more, by all accounts. I think people do well to call her
"Interfering Iris". When she's robbed them of their living, what does
she expect them to do? Is she going to keep them? Then what does she
expect them to do?'

The commercial traveller was inept enough to offer a jocular reply, and
then he found himself involved in the morass of 'the whole question'.
He, and we also, were obliged to hear in immense detail Miss Annie
Brett's complete notions of the movement for the abolition of barmaids.
The subject was heavy on her mind, and she lifted it off. Simon Fuge
was relinquished; he dropped like a stone into the pool of
forgetfulness. And yet, strange as it seems, she was assuredly not
sincere in the expression of her views on the question of barmaids. She
held no real views. She merely persuaded herself that she held them.
When the commercial traveller, who was devoid of sense, pointed out
that it was not proposed to rob anybody of a livelihood, and that
existent barmaids would be permitted to continue to grace the counters
of their adoption, she grew frostily vicious. The commercial traveller
decided to retire and play billiards. Mr Brindley and I in our turn
departed. I was extremely disappointed by this s