human
Some of Lady Tattersall's generalship! he thought, as the gray trotted out of the square.
gpt
Well! I have no business there. Cecil Ormsby is not her Grace of Amandine, nor little Maréchale, and the good lady is quite right to brand me 'dangerous' to her charge, and pronounce me 'inadmissible' to her footman. I've very little title to resent her verdict.
human
My dearest Cecil, whatever possessed you to bow to that man!
gpt
Is it not customary to bow to one's acquaintances--I thought it was?
human
But, my dear, from a window!--and when Mason is saying we are not at home!
gpt
That isn't _Mason's_ fib, or _Mason's_ fault, Lady Marabout!
human
There is no falsehood or fault at all anywhere--everybody knows well enough what 'not at home' means,
gpt
Oh yes, laughed the young lady, saucily.
human
It means 'I am at home and sitting in my drawing room, but I shall not rise to receive you, because you are not worth the trouble.' It's a polite cut direct, and a honeyed rudeness--a bitter almond wrapped up in a sugar dragée, like a good many other bonbons handed about in society.
gpt
My dear Cecil, you have some very strange ideas; you will get called satirical if you don't take care,