MISS T. Gracious, yes! I should hope you wouldn't want to show your enthusiasm _that_ way--like a Japanese nobleman! CULCH. (_to himself_). Now that's coarse--_really_ coarse!--(_Aloud._)--I seem to be unable to open my mouth now without some ridiculous distortion---- MISS T. My!--but that's a serious symptom--isn't it? You don't feel like you were going to have lock-jaw, do you, Mr. Culchard? [CULCHARD _falls back to the rear once more. Later_--MR. VAN BOODELER _has joined the party_; HYPATIA _has contrived to detach her brother_. CULCHARD _has sought refuge with_ PODBURY. MISS T. (_to_ VAN B.). So that's what kept you? Well, it sounds just too enchanting. But I cann't answer for what Miss Prendergast will say to it. It mayn't suit her notions of propriety. MR. VAN B. I expect she'll be superior to Britannic prejudices of that kind. I consider your friend a highly cultivated and charming lady, Maud. She produces that impression upon me. MISS T. I presume, from that, she has shown an intelligent interest in the great Amurrcan novel? MR. VAN B. Why, yes; it enlists her literary sympathies--she sees all its possibilities. MISS T. And they're pretty numerous, too. But here she comes. You'd better tell her your plan right now. MISS P. (_in an earnest undertone to_ BOB, _as they approach, followed by_ CULCH. _and_ POD.). You _must_ try and be sensible about it, Bob; if _you_ are too blind to see that she is only---- BOB (_sulkily_). All _right!_ Haven't I _said_ I'd go? What's the good of _jawing_ about it? MR. V. B. (_to_ MISS P.). I've been telling my cousin I've been organising a little water-party for this evening--moonlight, mandolins, Menaggio. If you find the alliteration has any attractions, I hope you and your brother will do me the pleasure of---- MISS P. I'm afraid not, thanks. We have all our packing to do. We find we shall have to leave early to-morrow. [VAN B.'s _face falls_; BOB _listens gloomily to_ MISS T.'s _rather perfunctory expressions of regret_; PODBURY _looks anxious and undecided_; CULCHARD _does his best to control an unseemly joy_. CHAPTER XVIII. A Suspension of Hostilities. SCENE--_The roof of Milan Cathedral; the innumerable statues and fretted pinnacles show in dazzling relief against the intense blue sky. Through the open-work of the parapet is seen the vast Piazza, with its yellow toy tram cars, and the small crawling figures which cast inordinately long shadows. All around is a maze of pale brown roofs, and beyond, the green plain blending on the horizon with dove-coloured clouds in a quivering violet haze._ CULCHARD _is sitting by a small doorway at the foot of a flight of steps leading to the Spire_.