Excerpt from Lady Adela
Ady Adela is one of those patricians who travel third I class for the sake of harrying the lower orders. In summer she likes the Windows shut because she suffers from hay-fever in winter she likes them open because she suffers from headache. At Easter it is more difficult to find a reason for being disagreeable but I have never yet known her fail.
She has two lap-dogs and no lap, just as some people have two tickets for every concert and no ear for music. The rest of her travelling equipment is less conspicuous. There is the Colonel (retired), an old family friend with a red face a peremptory, pro-consular sort of man: the sort of man who pronounces notwithstanding as a monosyllable. And there is Lady Adela's son, Adolphus, in violet spats, fresh from the Ministry of Gas and Gaiters. Also there is - I don't know why - myself.
We had the carriage to ourselves up till the last moment. Then, as the train gave its preliminary lurch, the door flew open and a rough, common fellow got in: a ragged fellow, with a scarlet neckerchief: a cheery fellow, with a banjo. He inserted a thumb among the strings of the banjo, and indicated a melody.
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