She closed with finality, and a further frost fell on the table. "Quite so," began the Colonel, trying, since he'd gone off the deep end, to keep afloat. But Carlotta turned abruptly to me. "Why is it, do you think, that the effect is so different on different people?" "And on different occasions," said I, grinning through my burgundy. "Do you know what they say? They say that alcohol, if it has an effect on your psyche, takes you back to old states of consciousness, and old reactions. But some people it doesn't stimulate at all, there is only a nervous reaction of repulsion." "There's certainly a nervous reaction of repulsion in me," said Carlotta. "As there is in all higher natures," murmured Lady Lathkill. "Dogs hate whisky," said I. "That's quite right," said the Colonel. "Scared of it!" "I've often thought," said I, "about those old states of consciousness. It's supposed to be an awful retrogression, reverting back to them. Myself, my desire to go onwards takes me back a little." "Where to?" said Carlotta. "Oh, I don't know! To where you feel a bit warm, and like smashing the glasses, don't you know? J'avons bien bu et nous boirons! Cassons les verres nous les payerons! Compagnons! Voyez vous bien! Voyez vous bien! Voyez! voyez! voyez vous bien Que les d'moiselles sont belles Où nous allons!" I had the effrontery to sing this verse of an old soldiers' song while Lady Lathkill was finishing her celery and nut salad. I sang it quite nicely, in a natty, well-balanced little voice, smiling all over my face meanwhile. The servant, as he went round for Lady Lathkill's plate, furtively fetched a look at me. _Look_! thought I. _You chicken that's come untrussed_! The partridges had gone, we had swallowed the _flan_, and were at dessert. They had accepted my song in complete silence. Even Carlotta! My _flan_ had gone down in one gulp, like an oyster. "You're quite right!" said Lord Lathkill, amid the squashing of walnuts. "I mean the state of mind of a Viking, shall we say, or of a Cataline conspirator, might be frightfully good for us, if we could re-capture it." "A Viking!" said I, stupefied. And Carlotta gave a wild snirt of laughter. "Why not a Viking?" he asked in all innocence. "A Viking!" I repeated, and swallowed my port. Then I looked round at my black-browed neighbour. "Why do you never say anything?" I asked. "What should I say?" she replied, frightened at the thought. I was finished. I gazed into my port as if expecting the ultimate revelation. Lady Lathkill rustled her finger-tips in the finger-bowl, and laid down her napkin decisively. The Colonel, old buck, rose at once to draw back her chair. _Place aux hommes_! I bowed to my neighbour, Mrs. Hale, a most disconcerting bow, and she made a circuit to get by me. "You won't be awfully long?" said Carlotta, looking at me with her slow, hazel-green eyes, between mischief and wistfulness and utter depression.