"
"I should think she would fail, won't she?" he asked.
"Why should you think that?"
Francis shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"Your father's entertainments have the reputation of being
somewhat unique," he remarked. "You do not, by-the-bye, attend
them yourself."
"You must remember that I have had very few opportunities so
far," she observed. "Besides, Cynthia has tastes which I do not
share."
"As, for instance?"
"She goes to the National Sporting Club. She once travelled, I
know, over a hundred miles to go to a bull fight."
"On the whole," Francis said, "I am glad that you do not share
her tastes."
"You know her?" Margaret enquired.
"Indifferently well," Francis replied. "I knew her when she was
a child, and we seem to come together every now and then at long
intervals. As a debutante she was charming. Lately it seems to
me that she has got into the wrong set."
"What do you call the wrong set?"
He hesitated for a moment.
"Please don't think that I am laying down the law," he said. "I
have been out so little, the last few years, that I ought not,
perhaps, to criticise. Lady Cynthia, however, seems to me to
belong to the extreme section of the younger generation, the
section who have a sort of craze for the unusual, whose taste in
art and living is distorted and bizarre.
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