"I wonder it doesn't happen every week," the answered. "D'you
mind my having the Agent-General to dinner again tonight? I'll
wire, and he can motor down."
The Agent-General arrived two hours later, a patient and
expostulating person, visibly torn between the pulling Devil of a
rampant Colony, and the placid Baker of a largely uninterested
England. But with Penfentenyou behind him he had worked; for he
told us that Lord Lundie--the Law Lord was the final authority on
the legal and constitutional aspects of the Great Idea, and to
him it must be referred.
"Good Heavens alive!" thundered Penfentenyou. "I told you to get
that settled last Christmas."
"It was the middle of the house-party season," said the
Agent-General mildly. "Lord Lundie's at Credence Green now--he
spends his holidays there. It's only forty miles off."
"Shan't I disturb his Holiness?" said Penfentenyou heavily.
"Perhaps 'my sort of questions,"' he snorted, "mayn't be
discussed except at midnight."
"Oh, don't be a child," I said.
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