'Give me some more toast dice!' Sophia said to Farnborough. 'You haven't seen Joey's new accomplishment. They're only discussing that idiotic scene the women made the other night.' 'Oh, in the gallery of the House of Commons?' 'Yes, wasn't it disgustin'?' said Paul Filey, facing about suddenly with an air of cheerful surprise at having at last hit on something that he and Lady Sophia could heartily agree about. 'Perfectly revolting!' said Hermione Heriot, not to be out of it. For it is well known that, next to a great enthusiasm shared, nothing so draws human creatures together as a good bout of cursing in common. So with emphasis Miss Heriot repeated, 'Perfectly revolting!' Her reward was to see Paul turn away from Sophia and say, in a tone whose fervour might be called marked-- 'I'm glad to hear you say so!' She consolidated her position by asking sweetly, 'Does it need saying?' 'Not by people like you. But it _does_ need saying when it comes to people we know----' 'Like Mrs. Freddy. Yes.' That unfortunate little lady seemed to be 'getting it' on all sides. Even her brother-in-law, who was known to be in reality a great ally of hers--even Lord Borrodaile was chuckling as though at some reflection distinctly diverting. 'Poor Laura! She was being unmercifully chaffed about it last night.' 'I don't myself consider it any longer a subject for chaff,' said Lord John. 'No,' agreed his wife; '_I_ felt that before this last outbreak. At the time of the first disturbance--where was it?--in some town in the North several weeks ago----' 'Yes,' said Vida Levering; 'I almost think that was even worse!' 'Conceive the sublime impertinence,' said Lady John, 'of an ignorant little factory girl presuming to stand up in public and interrupt a speech by a minister of the Crown!' 'I don't know what we're coming to, I'm sure!' said Borrodaile, with a detached air. 'Oh, _that_ girl--beyond a doubt,' said his host, with conviction--'that girl was touched.' 'Oh, beyond a doubt!' echoed Mr. Farnborough. 'There's something about this particular form of feminine folly----' began Lord John. But he wasn't listened to--for several people were talking at once. After receiving a few preliminary kicks, the subject had fallen, as a football might, plump into the very midst of a group of school-boys. Its sudden presence there stirred even the sluggish to unwonted feats. Every one must have his kick at this Suffrage Ball, and manners were for the nonce in abeyance. In the midst of an obscuring dust of discussion, floated fragments of condemnation: 'Sexless creatures!' 'The Shrieking Sisterhood!' etc., in which the kindest phrase was Lord John's repeated, 'Touched, you know,' as he tapped his forehead--'not really responsible, poor wretches. Touched.' 'Still, everybody doesn't know that. It must give men a quite horrid idea of women,' said Hermione, delicately.