"Much obliged to you."
"Not at all, sir. Cook's done a little spinach in cream with the
soubees."
"Ah! Tell her from me it's a capital dinner, so far."
"Thank you, sir."
Alone again, old Heythorp sat unmoving, his brain just narcotically
touched. "The flag flyin'--the flag flyin'!" He raised his glass and
sucked. He had an appetite now, and finished the three cutlets, and all
the sauce and spinach. Pity! he could have managed a snipe fresh shot! A
desire to delay, to lengthen dinner, was strong upon him; there were
but the souffle' and the savoury to come. He would have enjoyed, too,
someone to talk to. He had always been fond of good company--been good
company himself, or so they said--not that he had had a chance of late.
Even at the Boards they avoided talking to him, he had noticed for a
long time. Well! that wouldn't trouble him again--he had sat through his
last Board, no doubt. They shouldn't kick him off, though; he wouldn't
give them that pleasure--had seen the beggars hankering after his
chairman's shoes too long. The souffle was before him now, and lifting
his glass, he said:
"Fill up."
"These are the special glasses, sir; only four to the bottle.
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