'Yes, the Futurist is off the rails entirely, and he seems to see hardly anything but railways. But all that noisy nonsense of the Futurists always bored me frightfully,' Aylmer said. 'Affectation for affectation, I prefer the pose of depression and pessimism to that of bullying and high spirits. When the affected young poet pretended to be used up and worn out, one knew there was vitality under it all. But when I see a cheerful young man shrieking about how full of life he is, banging on a drum, and blowing on a tin trumpet, and speaking of his good spirits, it depresses me, since naturally it gives the contrary impression. It can't be real. It ought to be but it isn't. If the noisy person meant what he said, he wouldn't say it.' 'I see. The modern _poseurs_ aren't so good as the old ones. Odle is not so clever as Beardsley.' 'Of course not. Beardsley had the gift of line--though he didn't always know where to draw it--but his illustrations to Wilde's work were unsuitable, because Beardsley wanted everything down in black and white, and Wilde wanted everything in purple and gold. But both had their restraints, and their pose was reserve, not flamboyance.' 'I think you mean that if people are so sickening as to have an affectation at all, you would rather they kept it quiet,' said Edith. 'Exactly! At least, it brings a smile to one's lips to see a very young man pretend he is bored with life. I have often wondered what the answer would be from one of these chaps, and what he would actually say, if you held a loaded pistol to his head--I mean the man who says he doesn't think life worth living.' 'What do you think he would say?' asked Coniston. 'He would scream: "Good heavens! What are you doing? Put that down!"' said Edith. 'She's right,' said Aylmer. 'She always is.' Dulcie came in and brought tea. 'I hope we're not tiring him,' Edith asked her. 'Oh no. I think it does him good. He enjoys it.' She sat down with Archie and talked to him gently in the corner. 'After living so much among real things,' Coniston was saying, 'one feels half ashamed to discuss our old subjects.' However, he and Aylmer continued to talk over books and pictures, Coniston hanging on his lips as though afraid of missing or forgetting a word he said. Presently Edith told Aylmer about their new friend, Madame Frabelle. He was very curious to see her. 'What is she like?' he asked. 'I can't imagine her living with you. Is she a skeleton at the feast?' 'A skeleton!' exclaimed Coniston. 'Good heavens--no! Quite the contrary.' 'A skeleton who was always feasting would hardly remain one long,' suggested Edith. 'Anyhow,' said Aylmer, 'the cupboard is the proper place for a skeleton.' Archie had joined the group round Aylmer. Edith sat in a corner for some time, chatting with Dulcie. They arranged that Bruce was to call the next day, and Edith and Madame Frabelle the day after.