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They
were always together, those three, playing cards at the Club or sipping
lemonade and vermouth on the terrace.
"Oh, Mr. Keith," said the Duchess in her sweetest accents, "do you know
of what this entertainment makes me think?"
"Shall I guess?"
"Nothing of the kind! It makes me think that it is very, very wrong of
a man like you to be a bachelor. You want a wife."
"To want a wife, Duchess, is better than to need one. Especially if it
happens to be only your neighbour's."
"I am sure that means something dreadful!"
Don Francesco broke in:
"Tell me, Keith, how about your wives? What have you done with them? Is
it true that you sold them at various Oriental ports?"
"They got mislaid somehow. All that was before my Great Renunciation."
"Is it true that you kept them locked up in different parts of London?"
"I made it a rule never to introduce my lady-friends to one another.
They are so fond of comparing notes. Novelists try to make us believe
that women delight in men's society.


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