Fladworth is a prosperous accountant, quite in the front
rank of his profession, and for the last three years an indefatigable
War-worker. His two sons joined up on the day War was declared; his
three daughters are all nursing, and for the last two years their
town house has been a convalescent home. Mrs. Fladworth is a saint of
hospitality, and their country house is always full for the week-end
with people who want a rest. And one can accept this hospitality with
a good conscience, because they can afford it. It does not involve
the painful self-sacrifice shown by some people, of whom it has been
happily said that, when their supplies are short, they will insist on
your staying for a meal, "even if they have to kill a rabbit with a
Christian name."
The Fladworths are charming hosts, but they have a weakness--a passion
for intellectual games, serious variants, for the most part, on
"Consequences," and a most trying ordeal for persons who cannot spell
or are ignorant of history or general information.
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