Yet he manages to afford a flat somewhere in
Westminster, and he goes abroad to Bruges and those sorts of
places every year, and always dresses well, and gives quite
nice luncheon-parties in the season. You can't do all that
on two hundred a year, can you?''
``Does he write for any other papers?'' queried Mrs.
Troyle.
``No, you see he specializes so entirely on liturgy and
ecclesiastical architecture that his field is rather
restricted. He once tried the _Sporting and Dramatic_ with
an article on church edifices in famous fox-hunting centres,
but it wasn't considered of sufficient general interest to
be accepted. No, I don't see how he can support himself in
his present style merely by what be writes.''
``Perhaps he sells spurious transepts to American
enthusiasts,'' suggested Clovis.
``How could you sell a transept?'' said Mrs. Riversedge;
``such a thing would be impossible.''
``Whatever he may do to eke out his income,'' interrupted
Mrs. Troyle, ``he is certainly not going to fill in his
leisure moments by making love to my maid.''
``Of course not,'' agreed her hostess; ``that must be put
a stop to at once.
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