I said if I appeared in the sash again it would seem as if I went to bed in it. Mrs. Crasterton said that helped my quaintness.

I had to go down to dinner. Gaddy ate a large meal. He did not seem to be abashed or upset, whereas my food stuck in my throat. “The old toad, to spoil friendship,” I kept thinking to myself. “The old toad!”

Derek was an exposition of style from his patent leather toes to his shining hair. He gurgled and chuckled and winked at me until I did not know which way to look. At least it seemed that Big Ears couldn’t be in danger of felo de se.

Derek took me aside at the end of dinner and said that he had taken up my case with Big Ears. “He must be given a penny and told to take his hurdy-gurdy to some other corner. We don’t like the noise here.”

“You won’t let him commit suicide?”

Derek laughed. “People with his make of ears never die for love. They propose to all the girls and at last one takes them and they rear a big family and praise God.”

Mrs. Crasterton here summoned him. The Chief Justice had come early to have a few words with me. Derek surprised me by presenting me to the lovely old man with a beautiful mop of white hair. “They’ve all tried to spoil her, but she’s full of wit and common sense and takes everyone out of winding. She’s the richest thing I ever met. Her judgments of people would amuse you, Sir.”

Derek beamed upon me every now and again. Gaddy actually shone with feats of interestingness and attentiveness to all and sundry. A couple of lieutenants from the Flagship engaged Edmée’s attention. They were so carried away by her that they wound up like a clock stopping when Mrs. Crasterton tried to put them in circulation. She remarked afterwards that so many young Englishmen reminded her of underdone suet dumplings.

A cabled item in the evening papers was discussed. A certain nobleman was suing for divorce from his wife and naming as co-respondent an officer of the Guards. It was infatuation for this lady, said the quid nuncs, which had resulted in Goring Hardy coming to Australia and remaining so long. He would be now free to return to London. They speculated whether or not he would marry Lady Hartlepool when she should be free, whether he had been writing during his visit or if his time had been entirely wasted. “Was there no Sydney young lady able to engage his fancy?” inquired Sir James Hobnob, making eyes at Edmée. She languished and got away splendidly with the suggestion that she had not exerted herself, that he was much, much too old for her.

“A fascinating chap,” brayed Sir James. “A real man of the world, and a great name in Australian literature.”

“You bet,” said Derek. “The only Australian literary name that cuts any figure on a cheque.”