  The tax on tea and sugar has reduced our poor Eve and Tou-Tou to hot water instead of the refreshing cup of tea which formerly cheered Eve’s early-morning awakening. Why it is that when Adam has got his oldest clothes on, and has neglected to shave the bristles from his clear-cut chin, he always meets his most adorable acquaintances—Miss Wild-Duck, Miss Flirt, and Mrs. Darling— —Whereas, when he goes out to dine, trÈs bien soignÉ in his brand-new uniform—red tabs an’ all—this is the sort of party that greets his wrathful gaze? (At the particular moment the picture was taken Aunt Matilda’s second revoke was passing unnoticed in the pleasant hum of conversation) Why, also, that on the rare occasions when Eve’s oft-quoted but distant cousin, the Countess of Crimp, takes her out for a drive, the streets are empty of envious friends or impressed tradesmen— —And that the dear Duchess of Bohemia insists on spending the whole of their mutual time in the obscurity of a “movie” theatre— —Whereas when Cousin Tom from the country, with absolute sartorial indifference to the conventions of London, induces her to drive out in his second-hand Ford, Eve meets and sees everyone she has been trying to impress favourably for seasons past? |
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