Here and there a half-hearted demand for a repetition was heard; but
this was understood to be merely a compliment to Lady Sybil; and indeed
Lionel strolled out of the room as soon as his duties were over.
Fortunately no one was so indiscreet as to ask him what he privately
thought of the "Soldiers' Marching Song," or of its chances of being
recommended to the British Army by his royal highness the
commander-in-chief.
When at length Lionel thought it was about time for him to slip away
quietly from these brilliant, busy, murmuring rooms, he went to bid his
hostess privately good-night.
"It was so awfully kind of you, Mr. Moore," she said, graciously, "to
give us the chance of making Mr. Quirk's acquaintance. He is so
interesting, you know, so unconventional, so original in his
opinions--quite a treat to listen to him, I assure you. I've sent him a
copy of my poor little book; some time or other I wish you could get to
know what he thinks of it?"
"Oh, yes, certainly. I will ask him," Lionel said; and again he bade her
good-night, and took his leave.
But as he was going by the entrance into a smaller gallery, which had
been turned into a sort of supper-room (there was a buffet at one end,
and everywhere a number of small tables at which groups of friends could
sit down, the gentlemen of the party bringing over what was wanted) he
happened to glance in, and there, occupying a small table all by
himself, was Mr.
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