After all, the great thing about being crazy is to be all crazy together.

VI.  The Two Sexes in Fives or Sixes.  A Dinner-party Study

“But, surely,” exclaimed the Hostess, looking defiantly and searchingly through the cut flowers of the centre-piece, so that her eye could intimidate in turn all the five men at the table, “one must admit that women are men’s equals in every way?”

The Lady-with-the-Bust tossed her head a little and echoed, “Oh, surely!”

The Debutante lifted her big blue eyes a little towards the ceiling, with the upward glance that stands for innocence.  She said nothing, waiting for a cue as to what to appear to be.

Meantime the Chief Lady Guest, known to be in suffrage work, was pinching up her lips and getting her phrases ready, like a harpooner waiting to strike.  She knew that the Hostess meant this as an opening for her.

But the Soft Lady Whom Men Like toyed with a bit of bread on the tablecloth (she had a beautiful hand) and smiled gently.  The other women would have called it a simper.  To the men it stood for profound intelligence.

The five men that sat amongst and between the ladies received the challenge of the Hostess’s speech and answered it each in his own way.

From the Heavy Host at the head of the table there came a kind of deep grunt, nothing more.  He had heard this same talk at each of his dinners that season.

There was a similar grunt from the Heavy Business Friend of the Host, almost as broad and thick as the Host himself.  He knew too what was coming.  He proposed to stand by his friend, man for man.  He could sympathise.  The Lady-with-the-Bust was his wife.

But the Half Man with the Moon Face, who was known to work side by side with women on committees and who called them “Comrades,” echoed: 

“Oh, surely!” with deep emphasis.

The Smooth Gentleman, there for business reasons, exclaimed with great alacrity, “Women equal!  Oh, rather!”

Last of all the Interesting Man with Long Hair, known to write for the magazines—­all of them—­began at once: 

“I remember once saying to Mrs. Pankhurst—­” but was overwhelmed in the general conversation before he could say what it was he remembered saying to Mrs. Pankhurst.

In other words, the dinner-party, at about course number seven, had reached the inevitable moment of the discussion of the two sexes.

It had begun as dinner-parties do.

Everybody had talked gloomily to his neighbour, over the oysters, on one drink of white wine; more or less brightly to two people, over the fish, on two drinks; quite brilliantly to three people on three drinks; and then the conversation had become general and the European war had been fought through three courses with champagne.  Everybody had taken an extremely broad point of view.  The Heavy Business Friend