Mrs. Henry Wood. She was prim, pedantic and eminently genteel, the survival of an epoch when women wore full skirts and believed that their duty was to keep house, rather than to smash windows. Spruce stared at her through his eye-glass as he would have done at a prehistoric animal.
The would-be boarder was the last expression of man, as representing the lily of the fields which toils not. He resembled a cherub and was dressed like a Nut, that last variety of the masher, the swell, the dandy and the buck. With his clean-shaven pink and white face, his mild blue eyes, his smooth fair hair, little hands, little feet, and general well-groomed aspect, he looked like a good boy thoroughly acquainted with the Church Catechism. But his extravagant attire suggested Piccadilly, music-halls, the Park and afternoon teas. He wore a pale-green suit, the coat of which was made to show his waist, and turned-up trousers, which revealed purple socks and brogues of russia leather. His waistcoat was cut low, revealing a lavender-hued shirt and a purple scarf painted with a portrait of a famous dancer; and he held a green Trilby hat in his gloved hands, together with a gold-headed cane and an unlighted cigarette, which he did not dare to smoke in the severe presence of Mrs. Tesk. On the whole, Mr. Cuthbert Spruce was a thing of beauty, and wore as many colours as Joseph did when he put on his famous coat. He was the kind of male doll that virile men long to kick but dare not lest they should smash the thing.
When he had completed his survey of the room and of Mrs. Tesk, the Nut explained himself glibly. "I have come down here for a few months in order to study character for a book. Until I write that book I am rather hard up, so I should like to know if your terms are----"
"Twenty-five shillings a week," interrupted Mrs. Tesk solemnly. "No one, not even the most captious, can call such terms expensive or prohibitive."
"I certainly don't. In fact you ask so little that I am not sure if you can make me comfortable at the price."
"Good food, a good bed and genteel society, Mr. Spruce. What more does mortal man require, save a fire, which is not necessary, seeing that summer is with us in all its annual glory?"
"I don't think much of its annual glory comes to
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