P.S.—­I have seen to it that the motor vigilance to which
     your friends took exception has been considerably relaxed in
     my district.

‘What did you answer?’ said Ollyett, when all our opinions had been expressed.

’I told him I couldn’t do anything in the matter.  And I couldn’t—­then.  But you’ll remember to put in that foot-and-mouth paragraph.  I want something to work upon.’

‘It seems to me The Bun has done all the work up to date,’ I suggested.  ‘When does The Cake come in?’

‘The Cake,’ said Woodhouse, and I remembered afterwards that he spoke like a Cabinet Minister on the eve of a Budget, ’reserves to itself the fullest right to deal with situations as they arise.’

‘Ye-eh!’ Bat Masquerier shook himself out of his thoughts. ’"Situations as they arise.”  I ain’t idle either.  But there’s no use fishing till the swim’s baited.  You’—­he turned to Ollyett—­’manufacture very good ground-bait....  I always tell My people—­What the deuce is that?’

There was a burst of song from another private dining-room across the landing.  ‘It ees some ladies from the Trefoil,’ the waiter began.

‘Oh, I know that.  What are they singing, though?’

He rose and went out, to be greeted by shouts of applause from that merry company.  Then there was silence, such as one hears in the form-room after a master’s entry.  Then a voice that we loved began again:  ‘Here we go gathering nuts in May—­nuts in May—­nuts in May!’

’It’s only ‘Dal—­and some nuts,’ he explained when he returned.  ’She says she’s coming in to dessert.’  He sat down, humming the old tune to himself, and till Miss Vidal Benzaguen entered, he held us speechless with tales of the artistic temperament.

We obeyed Pallant to the extent of slipping into The Bun a wary paragraph about cows lying down and dripping at the mouth, which might be read either as an unkind libel or, in the hands of a capable lawyer, as a piece of faithful nature-study.

‘And besides,’ said Ollyett, ’we allude to “gravid polled Angus.”  I am advised that no action can lie in respect of virgin Shorthorns.  Pallant wants us to come to the House to-night.  He’s got us places for the Strangers’ Gallery.  I’m beginning to like Pallant.’

‘Masquerier seems to like you,’ I said.

‘Yes, but I’m afraid of him,’ Ollyett answered with perfect sincerity.  ‘I am.  He’s the Absolutely Amoral Soul.  I’ve never met one yet.’

We went to the House together.  It happened to be an Irish afternoon, and as soon as I had got the cries and the faces a little sorted out, I gathered there were grievances in the air, but how many of them was beyond me.

‘It’s all right,’ said Ollyett of the trained ear.  ’They’ve shut their ports against—­oh yes—­export of Irish cattle!  Foot-and-mouth disease at Ballyhellion. I see Pallant’s idea!’