“Che i marinari in mezzo il mar dismaga”

(and he hummed this line in a sing-song two or three times over)—­“the devil who makes us dream and doubt, and who made life interesting by persuading Eve to eat the silver apple—­what would life have been if she had not eaten the apple?  We should all be in the silly trees of the Garden of Eden, and I should be sitting next to you” (he said to Mrs. Bergmann), “without knowing that you were beautiful; que vous etes belle et que vous etes desirable; que vous etes puissante et caline, que je fais naufrage dans une mer d’amour—­e il naufragio m’e dolce in questo mare—­en un mot, que je vous aime.”

“Life outside the garden of Eden has many drawbacks,” said Mrs. Bergmann, who, although she was inwardly pleased by Count Sciarra’s remarks, saw by Lady Irene’s expression that she thought he was mad.

“Aucun ‘drawback,’” answered Sciarra, “n’egalerait celui de comtempler les divins contours feminins sans un frisson.  Pensez donc si Madame Bergmann——­”

“Count Sciarra,” interrupted Mrs. Bergmann, terrified of what was coming next, “do tell me about the book you are writing on Venice.”

Mrs. Lockton was at that moment discussing portraiture in novels with M. Faubourg, and during a pause Miss Tring was heard to make the following remark:  “And is it true M. Faubourg, that ‘Cecile’ in ’La Mauvaise Bonte’ is a portrait of some one you once loved and who treated you very badly?”

M. Faubourg, a little embarrassed, said that a creative artist made a character out of many originals.

Then, seeing that nobody was saying a word to his neighbour, he turned round and asked him if he had been to the Academy.

“Yes,” answered the stranger; “it gets worse every year doesn’t it?”

“But Mr. Corporal’s pictures are always worth seeing,” said Faubourg.

“I think he paints men better than women,” said the stranger; “he doesn’t flatter people, but of course his pictures are very clever.”

At this moment the attention of the whole table was monopolised by Osmond Hall, who began to discuss the scenario of a new play he was writing.  “My play,” he began, “is going to be called ’The King of the North Pole.’  I have never been to the North Pole, and I don’t mean to go there.  It’s not necessary to have first-hand knowledge of technical subjects in order to write a play.  People say that Shakespeare must have studied the law, because his allusions to the law are frequent and accurate.  That does not prove that he knew law any more than the fact that he put a sea in Bohemia proves that he did not know geography.  It proves he was a dramatist.  He wanted a sea in Bohemia.  He wanted lawyer’s ‘shop.’  I should do just the same thing myself.  I wrote a play about doctors, knowing nothing about medicine:  I asked a friend to give me the necessary information.  Shakespeare, I expect, asked his friends to give him the legal information he required.”