Sorry to be inquisitive." "I am going to sing for the Countess of Carbury at a concert at Wandsworth." "Sing! You! The Countess of Barbury! Does she live at Wandsworth ?" "No.

She lives in Park Lane." "Oh! I beg her pardon." The man made no comment on this; and she, after looking doubtfully at him to assure herself that he was in earnest, continued, "How does the Countess of Whatshername come to know _you_, pray ?" "Why not ?" A long pause ensued.

Then she said: "Stuff!", but without conviction.
Her exclamation had no apparent effect on him until he had buttoned his waistcoat and arranged his watch-chain.

Then he glanced at a sheet of pink paper which lay on the mantelpiece.

She snatched it at once; opened it; stared incredulously at it; and said, "Pink paper, and scalloped edges! How filthily vulgar! I thought she was not much of a Countess! Ahem! 'Music for the People.