'There is a devil of a mess on the staircase, waiter,' said the stranger. 'Things going up - carpenters coming down - lamps, glasses, harps. What's going on?'

'It's a ball, Sir,' said the waiter. A ball for the benefit of a charity, Sir.'

'Are there many good-looking women in this town, do you know, Sir?' inquired Mr Tupman, with great interest.

'They are splendid. This is Kent, sir - everybody knows Kent - its apples, cherries, hops, and women. Would you like a glass of wine, Sir?'

'With great pleasure,' replied Mr Tupman. The stranger filled his own glass too and emptied it.

'I should very much like to go,' said Mr Tupman, resuming the subject of the ball. 'Very much.'

'Tickets are on sale at the bar, Sir,' the waiter told him; 'half-a-guinea each, Sir.'