I
shall have to apologise for him."
Dinner-time had come; it was a quarter past eight, and the room was
filled with highly bred people all more or less distinguished. Mr.
Granger had duly appeared, arrayed in his threadbare black coat,
relieved, however, by a pair of Geoffrey's dress shoes. As might have
been expected, the great folk did not seem surprised at his presence,
or to take any particular notice of his attire, the fact being that such
people never are surprised. A Zulu chief in full war dress would only
excite a friendly interest in their breasts. On the contrary they
recognised vaguely that the old gentleman was something out of the
common run, and as such worth cultivating. Indeed the Prime Minister,
hearing casually that he was a clergyman from Wales, asked to be
introduced to him, and at once fell into conversation about tithes, a
subject of which Mr. Granger was thoroughly master.
Presently they went down to dinner, Mr. Granger escorting the wife
of the Bishop, a fat and somewhat apoplectic lady, blessed with an
excellent appetite. On his other side was the Prime Minister, and
between the two he got on very well, especially after a few glasses of
wine.
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