He was killed in his bathroom, you
know.''
``Oh, now I know the story, of course. Do you want me to
take the part of Charlotte Corday?''
``That's a different story and a different century,'' said
Clovis; ``the dramatic unities forbid one to lay a scene in
more than one century at a time. The killing in this case
has to be done by Clytemnestra.''
``Rather a pretty name. I'll do that part. I suppose you
want to be Aga-whatever his name is?''
``Dear no. Agamemnon was the father of grown-up children,
and probably wore a beard and looked prematurely aged. I
shall be his charioteer or bath-attendant, or something
decorative of that kind. We must do everything in the
Sumurun manner, you know.''
``I don't know,'' said the Baroness; ``at least, I should
know better if you would explain exactly what you mean by
the Sumurun manner.''
Clovis obliged: ``Weird music, and exotic skippings and
flying leaps, and lots of drapery and undrapery.
Particularly undrapery.''
``I think I told you the County are coming. The County
won't stand anything very Greek.''
``You can get over any objection by calling it Hygiene, or
limb-culture, or something of that sort.
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