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Chapter 11

           "Really!"exclaimedLordEltonatthisjuncture—"Youdon’tlookit,doesheCharlotte?"

           MissFitzroythusappealedto,raisedhereleganttortoise-shell-framedglassestohereyesandpeeredcriticallyatusboth.

           "IshouldimaginetheprincetobeslightlytheseniorofMrTempest"—sheremarkedinprecisehigh-bredaccents—"Butonlyveryslightly."

           "Anyhow,"resumedMissChesney"you’reyoungenough,toenjoyyourwealtharen’tyou?"

           "Youngenough,oroldenough;—justasyouplease;"—saidLuciowithacarelessshrug—"Butasithappens—Idonotenjoyit!"

           MissChesney’swholeaspectnowexpressedthemostlivelyastonishment.

           "Whatdoesmoneydoforyou?"wentonLucio,hiseyesdilatingwiththatstrangeandwistfulexpressionwhichhadoftenexcitedmycuriosity—"Theworldisatyourfeet,perhaps;yes—butwhataworld!Whatatrumperyclodofkickablematter!Wealthactsmerelyasakindofmirrortoshowyouhumannatureatitsworst.

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