Міжнародний епізод

           ThesceneborethestampoftheLondonSeasonatitsheight,andBessieAldenfoundmoreentertainmentinitthanshewasabletoexpresstohercompanions.Shesatsilent,underherparasol,andherimagination,accordingtoitswont,letitselflooseintothegreatchangingassemblageofstrikingandsuggestivefigures.Theystirredupahostofoldimpressionsandpreconceptions,andshefoundherselffittingahistorytothispersonandatheorytothat,andmakingaplaceforthemallinherlittleprivatemuseumoftypes.Butifshesaidlittle,hersisterononesideandWillieWoodleyontheotherexpressedthemselvesinlivelyalternation.“Lookatthatgreendresswithblueflounces,”saidMrs.Westgate.“Quelletoilette!”“That’stheMarquisofBlackborough,”saidtheyoungman—“theoneinthewhitecoat.IheardhimspeaktheothernightintheHouseofLords;itwassomethingaboutramrods;hecalledthem‘wamwods.’He’sanawfulswell.”“Didyoueverseeanythinglikethewaytheyarepinnedback?”Mrs.Westgateresumed.“Theyneverknowwheretostop.”“Theydonothingbutstop,”saidWillieWoodley.“Itpreventsthemfromwalking.Herecomesagreatcelebrity—LadyBeatriceBellevue.She’sawfullyfast;seewhatlittlestepsshetakes.”“Well,mydear,”Mrs.Westgatepursued,“Ihopeyouaregettingsomeideasforyourcouturiere?”“Iamgettingplentyofideas,”saidBessie,“butIdon’tknowthatmycouturierewouldappreciatethem.