V
George Lee, M.P. for Westeringham, was a somewhat corpulent gentleman of forty-one. His eyes
were pale blue and slightly prominent with a suspicious expression, he had a heavy jowl, and a
slow pedantic¹ utterance².
He said now in a weighty manner:
“I have told you, Magdalene, that I think it my duty to go.”
His wife shrugged³ her shoulders impatiently.
She was a slender creature, a platinum⁴ blonde with plucked eyebrows⁵ and a smooth egglike
face. It could, on occasions, look quite blank and devoid⁶ of any expression whatever. She was
looking like that now.
“Darling,” she said, “it will be perfectly⁷ grim, I am sure of it.”
“Moreover,” said George Lee, and his face lit up as an attractive idea occurred to him, “it will
enable us to save considerably⁸. Christmas is always an expensive time. We can put the servants on
board wages.”
“Oh, well!” said Magdalene. “After all, Christmas is pretty grim anywhere!”
“I suppose,” said George, pursuing his own line of thought, “they will expect to have a
Christmas dinner? A nice piece of beef, perhaps, instead of a turkey.”
“Who?” The servants? Oh, George, don’t fuss so. You’re always worrying about money.”
“Somebody has to worry,” said George.
“Yes, but it’s absurd to pinch and scrape in all these little ways. Why don’t you make your
father give you some more money?”
“He already gives me a very handsome allowance.”
“It’s awful to be completely dependent on your father, as you are! He ought to settle some
money on you

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