'Ole! ole! Does she use the
castanets, and wear a mantilla instead of a cap?'
'How frivolous and silly you are. No, of course not. She looks quite
English, in fact particularly so.'
'And yet you insist she's Spanish! Well, my advice is this. If he has a
secret alliance with Spain, you should assume the Balkan attitude.'
'Good gracious! What's that?'
'We're talking politics,' said Landi, across the table. 'Politics, and
geography! Fancy, Meetchel, Mrs Ottley doesn't know anything about
the Balkans!'
'Ha, very good,' said Mitchell. 'Capital. What a fellow you are!' He
gave his hearty, clubbable laugh. Mr Mitchell belonged to an
exceptionally large number of clubs and was a favourite at all. His
laugh was the chief cause of his popularity there.
'Il est fou,' said Landi quietly to Edith. 'Quel monde! I don't think
there are half-a-dozen sane people at this table.'
'Oh, Landi!'
'And if there are, they shouldn't by rights be admitted into decent
society. But the dear Meetchels don't know that; it's not public. I
adore them both,' he went on, changing his satirical tone, and again
apparently drinking the health of Mrs Mitchell, who waved her hand
coquettishly from the end of the long table.
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