‘I had supposed,’ he said, in a cold, level voice, ‘that this was a quiet retreat for gentlemen. As I perceive that it is a blasted Zoo, I will withdraw.’ And he left the room in a marked manner. There was a good deal of surprise, mixed with consternation. ‘What’s the trouble?’ asked an Egg, concerned. Such exhibitions of the naked emotions are rare at the Drones. ‘Have they had a row?’ A Crumpet, always well-informed, shook his head. ‘Freddie has had no personal breach with this particular kitten,’ he said. ‘It is simply that since that week-end at Matcham Scratchings he can’t stand the sight of a cat.’ ‘Matcham what?’ ‘Scratchings. The ancestral home of Dahlia Prenderby in Oxfordshire.’ ‘I met Dahlia Prenderby once,’ said the Egg. ‘I thought she seemed a nice girl.’ ‘Freddie thought so, too. He loved her madly.’ ‘And lost her, of course?’ ‘Absolutely.’ ‘Do you know,’ said a thoughtful Bean, ‘I’ll bet that if all the girls Freddie Widgeon has loved and lost were placed end to end – not that I suppose one could do it – they would reach half-way down Piccadilly.’ ‘Further than that,’ said the Egg.
What do You think about Young Men In Spats (2009)?
