"A club for diplomats and gentlemen," Prince Karschoff remarked, looking lazily through a little cloud of tobacco smoke around the spacious but almost deserted card room.

"The classification seems comprehensive enough, yet it seems impossible to get even a decent rubber of bridge." Sir Daniel Harker, a many years retired plenipotentiary to one of the smaller Powers, shrugged his shoulders.
"Personally, I have come to the conclusion," he declared, "that the _raison d'etre_ for the club seems to be passing.

There is no diplomacy, nowadays, and every man who pays his taxes is a gentleman.

Kingley, you are the youngest.

Ransack the club and find a fourth." The Honourable Nigel Kingley smiled lazily from the depths of his easy-chair.