he was pleasantly touched, too.

Then Oswald Morfey and Sissie made another couple, very different, more
animated, and equally touching. Ozzie seemed to grow more likeable, and
less despicable, under the honest and frankly ardent gaze of Miss
Prohack; and Mr. Prohack was again visited by a doubt whether the fellow
was after all the perfectly silly ass which he was reputed to be.

In the lift, Lady Massulam having offered her final adieux, Ozzie opened
up to Mrs. Prohack the subject of an organisation called the United
League of all the Arts. Mr. Prohack would not listen to this. He hated
leagues, and especially leagues of arts. He knew in the marrow of his
spine that they were preposterous; but Mrs. Prohack and Sissie listened
with unfeigned eagerness to the wonderful tale of the future of the
United League of all the Arts. And when, emerging from the lift, Mr.
Prohack strolled impatiently on ahead, the three stood calmly moveless
to converse, until Mr. Prohack had to stroll impatiently back again. As
for Charlie, he stood by himself; there was leisure for the desired word
with his father, but Mr. Prohack had bluntly postponed that, and thus
the leisure was wasted.

Without consulting Mr. Prohack's wishes, Ozzie drew the ladies towards
the great lounge, and Mr. Prohack at a distance unwillingly after them.
In the lounge so abundantly enlarged and enriched since the days of the
celebrated Felix Babylon, the founder of the hotel, post-lunch coffee
was merging into afternoon tea. The number of idle persons in the world,
and the number of busy persons who ministered to them, and the number of
artistic persons who played voluptuous music to their idleness, struck
Mr. Prohack as merely prodigious. He had not dreamed that idleness on so
grandiose a scale flourished in the city which to him had always been a