Summary

Portrait of Hugh Walpole Hugh Walpole The Garrulous Diplomatist

I then enjoyed one of the strangest sights I've seen for a long time, namely, Sir Marcus standing in his shirt and trousers and shaking himself up and down like a danseur learning the latest and most erratic developments of the shimmy, his eyes, as usual, bursting from his head, both of us watching in agony for the appearance of the stud. There was a little tinkle as something struck the floor, and we were then both on our knees searching the carpet. But I will not continue through the varied eccentricities of that amazing evening.
Some bores are bores because they remember so much.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Hugh Walpole Hugh Walpole The Garrulous Diplomatist

Some are bores because they love you so much. Others because they hate you so much. Others, again, because they are not thinking of you at all, but only of themselves. Others, yet again, because they think of you so much that your natural modesty is disgusted. Some are bores because of a trick of the voice or a movement of the body. Some because they're industrious, some because they're lazy, some because they're ugly, and certainly some because they're handsome. All these bores, except the very last, was Sir Marcus Pendyce.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Hugh Walpole Hugh Walpole The Garrulous Diplomatist

The hall was packed, the walls were lined with standing people, the gallery almost shed perspiration upon the heads below it, so hot and pressed and excited was it. The chairman of the evening was Sir Muttlebury Hatt, J.P. for the district, a gentleman so curiously like Sir Marcus on a smaller and more insignificant scale that I once again admired Charlie Black's resource in that he had secured a chairman who should, as it were, prepare the way for the speaker by being just half as grand, half as large, half as impressive. Then Sir Marcus appeared.
Source: Wikisource

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