] Alas, Charles, it is
but a flower vase. I want you to tell Mrs. Shand what you think of
her husband's speech.
[MR. VENABLES gives his hostess a reproachful look.]
VENABLES. Eh--ah--Shand will prefer to do that himself. I promised
the gardener--I must not disappoint him--excuse me--
COMTESSE. You must tell her, Charles.
MAGGIE. Please, Mr. Venables, I should like to know.
[He sits down with a sigh and obeys.]
VENABLES. Your husband has been writing the speech here, and by his
own wish he read it to me three days ago. The occasion is to be an
important one; and, well, there are a dozen young men in the party at
present, all capable of filling a certain small ministerial post. [He
looks longingly at the mower, but it sends no message to his aid.]
And as he is one of them I was anxious that he should show in this
speech of what he is capable.
MAGGIE. And hasn't he?
[Not for the first time MR. VENABLES wishes that he was not in
politics.]
VENABLES. I am afraid he has.
COMTESSE. What is wrong with the speech, Charles?
VENABLES. Nothing--and he can still deliver it. It is a powerful,
well-thought-out piece of work, such as only a very able man could
produce. But it has no SPECIAL QUALITY of its own--none of the little
touches that used to make an old stager like myself want to pat Shand
on the shoulder. [The COMTESSE's mouth twitches, but MAGGIE declines
to notice it.
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