This was not quite so easy, for Hermy and Ursy had projected a round of
visits after dinner to every member of the classes with the exception
of Lucia, who should wake up next morning to find herself the only
illusioned person in the place.
"She wouldn't like that, you know," said Hermy with brisk malice. "We
thought it would serve her out for never asking us to her house again
after her foolish old garden-party."
"My dear, you never wanted to go," said Georgie.
"I know we didn't, but we rather wanted to tell her we didn't want to
go. She wasn't nice. Oh, I don't think we can give up telling
everybody. It has made such sillies of you all. I think he's a real
sport."
"So do I," said Ursy. "We shall soon have him back at his curry-oven
again. What a laugh we shall have with him."
They subsided for just as long as it took Foljambe to come out of the
house, inform them that it was a quarter of an hour to dinner-time, and
return again. They all rose obediently.
"Well, we'll talk about it at dinner-time," said Georgie
diplomatically. "And I'll just go down to the cellar first to see if I
can find something you like."
"Good old Georgie," said Hermy. "But if you're going to bribe us, you
must bribe us well."
"We'll see," said he.
Georgie was quite right to be careful over his Veuve Clicquot,
especially since it was a bottle of that admirable beverage that Hermy
and Ursy had looted from his cellar on the night of their burglarious
entry.
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