The Duke of York's Steps by Henry Wade — Read

At half past four on the same afternoon, Inez Fratten walked into the morning-room of her father's big house in Queen Anne's Gate, pulled off her soft hat and threw it on to a chair, shook her hair loose, and picked up a telephone.

"Wilton 0550... Is that 27 Gr... Oh Jill! Inez speaking. Jill darling, come and dine with us tonight and play Bridge. Ryland's dining in, as he calls it, for once in a blue moon. I'm so anxious that one of his dangerous tastes should have the best and brightest home influence to distract him from -- et cetera, et cetera, -- you know -- sweet young English girlhood and all the rest of it -- you're just exactly it -- with a small ‘i'. Yes, Golpin, I'll have it in here. It's all right, darling, I'm talking about tea. I say, did you see Billie last night? She was with that awful Hicking man again -- you know, the pineapple planter or whatever it is they make fortunes out of in Borneo or New Guinea or somewhere. Billie's simply fascinated with him because he's got a ruby tooth -- she follows him about everywhere and says awful things to make him laugh -- he thinks he's made a frightful conquest. They were at the Pink Lizard last night, but you may have left. Who was that exquisite young thing you'd got in tow? No -- really -- I thought he was a pet. Well, you're coming, aren't you? If you want a cocktail you must have it at home because father's joined an anti-cocktail league or made a corner in Marsala or something. So long, my Jill. Eight o'clock -- don't be late, because we won't wait. Poitry."