But Mrs. Mickleham indicates politely that if she took this one it would have to swim for it. (The Haggerty Woman takes it long afterwards when she thinks, erroneously, that no one is looking.) Mrs. Twymley is sulking. Evidently some one has contradicted her. Probably the Haggerty Woman. MRS. TWYMLEY. ‘I say it is so.’ THE HAGGERTY WOMAN. ‘I say it may be so.’ MRS. TWYMLEY. ‘I suppose I ought to know: me that has a son a prisoner in Germany.’ She has so obviously scored that all good feeling seems to call upon her to end here. But she continues rather shabbily, ‘Being the only lady present that has that proud misfortune.’ The others are stung. MRS. DOWEY. ‘My son is fighting in France.’ MRS. MICKLEHAM. ‘Mine is wounded in two places.’ THE HAGGERTY WOMAN. ‘Mine is at Salonaiky.’ The absurd pronunciation of this uneducated person moves the others to mirth. MRS. DOWEY. ‘You’ll excuse us, Mrs. Haggerty, but the correct pronunciation is Salonikky.’ THE HAGGERTY WOMAN, to cover her confusion. ‘I don’t think.’ She feels that even this does not prove her case. ‘And I speak as one that has War Savings Certificates.’ MRS. TWYMLEY. ‘We all have them.’ The Haggerty Woman whimpers, and the other guests regard her with unfeeling disdain. MRS. DOWEY, to restore cheerfulness, ‘Oh, it’s a terrible war.’ ALL, brightening, ‘It is. You may say so.’ MRS. DOWEY, encouraged, ‘What I say is, the men is splendid, but I’m none so easy about the staff. That’s your weak point, Mrs. Mickleham.’ MRS. MICKLEHAM, on the defence, but determined to reveal nothing that might be of use to the enemy, ‘You may take it from me, the staff’s all right.’ MRS. DOWEY. ‘And very relieved I am to hear you say it.’ It is here that the Haggerty Woman has the remaining winkle. MRS. MICKLEHAM. ‘You don’t understand properly about trench warfare. If I had a map----’ MRS. DOWEY, wetting her finger to draw lines on the table. ‘That’s the river Sommy. Now, if we had barrages here----’ MRS. TWYMLEY. ‘Very soon you would be enfilided. Where’s your supports, my lady?’ Mrs. Dowey is damped. MRS. MICKLEHAM. ‘What none of you grasps is that this is a artillery war----’ THE HAGGERTY WOMAN, strengthened by the winkle, ‘I say that the word is Salonaiky.’ The others purse their lips. MRS. TWYMLEY, with terrible meaning, ‘We’ll change the subject. Have you seen this week’s _Fashion Chat_?’ She has evidently seen and devoured it herself, and even licked up the crumbs. ‘The gabardine with accordion pleats has quite gone out.’ MRS. DOWEY, her old face sparkling. ‘My sakes! You tell me?’ MRS. TWYMLEY, with the touch of haughtiness that comes of great topics, ‘The plain smock has come in again, with silk lacing, giving that charming chic effect.’ MRS. DOWEY. ‘Oho!’