“My pet,” cried the delited Mr. Withersq, “You have called me Harold. Ah me ah me how fondly I love your charms,” and so he picked up Selia’s bag, and they went out stepping over the countess and ran into the street. Selia still a little red from her blush at Mr. Withersquashes warm words of passion. “What about a bit of food?” she said to change the subject. “Ah, now I will give you a fair treet,” cried Mr. Withersq brindling with glee, “for indeed I love you at last Selia and you shall ate of the best now Unckle Burt is dead.” “Pray how shall such as us know where to eat of the best?” scoffed Selia lightly for she had yet to learn how to treet a good noble man with properness. “Now dont be snappy,” said Mr. Withersq who was not to be put down so easily. “It was a baroness herself last night who asked me if I offen went to the Mauve Loft, and she said it was ripping, so not so much of your scorn if you please.” So you see even our devoted Mr. Withersq could turn, which is not to be surprised at seeing he had unbroken his fast. “What is the Mauve Loft?” snapped Selia, “what kind of a place I ask. Fletchers I know, and the Dad goes to Pim’s when he back’s a good ’un, but what is a Loft? Tell me that!” “It is where you eat if you are smart” responded her Harold. “You should know by now that the upper ten call their eating places by names, like dogs or pubs. Have you not yet heard of the ‘Spotted Eel?’ at Chelsy? Nor the ‘Monkey Puzzel’ at the Scrubs? Tush, Selia, pull your socks up my good girl.” They strode forward in glassy silence. When they got there it was over some stable-places in Piccadilly and they went up the ladder and tapt. A totally black nigger let them in and bowed, and they entered and Mr. Withersq giggled the cash in his trowsers for all he was worth as was by now his lucky custom. It was a terrific abode painted a purpel colour which looked very nice. And across the mantelpece was printed very big LIFT UP YOUR HEARTS which I think is from Shakespeare. There was hundreds and dozens of waiters all totally black teeming about the room, and all along the floor stood a great tabel like in pictures of the last supper. Many smart people sat rather sprawly at it and listened to the words of a man very similar looking to those Mr. Withersq and Selia had beholded the night before at the party. And meanwhile they chewed their food. Also several young ladys some soberly in round black specs but some also a bit dashing with scarlet lips and several oldish ones too, all lolled on the table on elbows and smoking like chimneys. As our coupel entered they turned of course and had a good stare but said nothing, not knowing them. Nothing abashed Mr. Withersq beckoned a couple of black waiters to bring the food list which they did. He chose a good few of the dearest things, trusting to be correct, and they sat down at the foot of the table, hoping to chum up quickly.