She was sitting next to Gilbert, and Henry and Jimphy were together with their backs to the chauffeur. She did not appear to be tired nor had the sparkle of her beautiful eyes diminished. She lay against the padded back of the car and chattered in an inconsequent fashion that was oddly amusing. She did not listen to replies that were made to her questions, nor did she appear to notice that sometimes replies were not made. It seemed to Henry that she would have chattered exactly as she was now chattering if she had been alone. Neither Gilbert nor Jimphy answered her, but Henry felt that something ought to be said when she made a direct remark. "Isn't Fleet Street funny at this time of night?" she said. "So quiet. I do hope the supper will be fit to eat. Oh, Gilbert, I wish you'd say something in your notice of Wilde's play about his insincerity. I felt all the time I was listening to the play that ... that it wasn't true!'" Gilbert sat up straight in his seat and looked at her. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Yes," she went on. "The wit seemed to be stuck on to the play ... it wasn't part of it!..." Gilbert leant back in his seat again. "You've been talking to Henry about Wilde, haven't you?" She laughed lightly and turned towards Henry. "Oh, of course. Mr. Quinn, I always repeat what other people say. I forget that they've said it to me and think that I've thought of it myself!" Henry professed to be pleased that she had accepted his ideas so completely. "But, of course," she continued, "what you said was quite true. I've always felt that there was something wrong with Wilde's plays...." "I can't think what you all want to talk about a play for. I never see anything in 'em to talk about!" Jimphy murmured sleepily. "Go to sleep, Jimphy, dear. Well wake you when we get to the Savoy...." "Always ragging a chap!" Jimphy muttered, and then closed his eyes. The car turned down one of the narrow streets that lead from Fleet Street to the Thames Embankment, and then turned again and stopped. "Oh, is this your office, Gilbert?" Lady Cecily said. "Such an ugly, dark looking place! But I suppose it's interesting inside? Newspaper offices are supposed to be awfully interesting inside, aren't they?" "Are they?" Gilbert replied, as he got out of the car. "I've never noticed it. Noisy holes where no one has time to think. Good-bye." "Not 'good-bye,' Gilbert! We shall see you soon at the Savoy, shan't we?" "Oh, yes. Yes. I'd almost forgotten that!" The car drove off, threading the narrow steep street slowly. They could hear the deep rurr-rurr of the printing machines coming from the basements of the buildings, and now and then great patches of pallid blue light shot out of open windows. Motor-vans and horse-waggons were drawn up against the pavements in front of the office-doors, waiting for the newly-printed papers. Bundles of _Daily Reflexions_ were already printed and were being thrown on to the cars and waggons for distribution.