Before we had time to recover our spirits, we were indulged with some thought-reading by a young man whom one knew instinctively had a good mother and an indifferent tailor -- the sort of young man who talks unflaggingly through the thickest soup, and smooths his hair dubiously as though he thought it might hit back. The thought-reading was rather a success; he announced that the hostess was thinking about poetry, and she admitted that her mind was dwelling on one of Austin's odes. Which was near enough. I fancy she had really been wondering whether a scrag-end of mutton and some cold plum-pudding would do for the kitchen dinner the next day. As a crowning dissipation, they all sat down to play progressive halma, with milk chocolate for prizes. I've been carefully brought up, and I don't like to play games of skill for milk chocolate, so I invented a headache and retired from the scene.
-- SAKI (H. H. MUNRO)
Reginald's Christmas Revel
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