DINNER was a very quiet affair. Not a soul drew my chair away from
under me as I sat down, and during the meal nobody threw bread
about. We talked gently of art and politics and things; and when the
ladies left there was no booby trap waiting for them at the door. In
a word, nothing to prepare me for what was to follow.
We strolled leisurely into the drawing-room. A glance told me the
worst. The ladies were in a cluster round Miss Power, and Miss Power
was on the floor. She got up quickly as we came in.
"We were trying to go underneath the poker," she explained. "Can you
do it?"