without a title and with not so much as two pounds a year. No, romance is only for the wealthy."
"Romance has nothing whatever to do with money," she said gravely. "Romance is merely a love of the beautiful."
"The emotionally beautiful," he corrected.
"Yes, the emotionally beautiful," she agreed, fixing her eyes on the red sail of a boat far away in the distance.
"The poor man cannot afford to be emotional. It would lose for him his friends, his job and his chances in life."
"But why doesn't Lord Drewitt do something?"
"Do something!" he repeated. "What is there for him to do?"
"Couldn't he work?" she suggested.
"At what? Peers can't work. He might drive a taxi; but Aunt Caroline would raise Cain."
She remained silent for some time, then turning to him shook her head, as if unable to make a suggestion.
"Proper allowance is never made for the rise of democracy. Drew and I are the products of our age. Drew's profession was that of being a peer, whilst I was precipitated into the Foreign Office. Then came the war, and everything got mixed up again, and I" he paused.
"And you?" repeated Lola, looking up at him.
"I'm at a loose end."
"But aren't you going to work?"
"What can I do? I could be a clerk at three
