A moment's wicked carelessness
Will never stop unless stopped at one."
"A rather small party," he told her, as
They entered his utterly barren place,
Barren of noise and people too,
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And a lustful smile suffused his face.
"Have some Madeira, m'dear," he said,
"The evening has only half begun."
She cried "We must not dally here!
"Tis seven, and I must be back at one."
The evening pressed on, and so did he,
But his argument weakened at rapid rate,
For the later it got, the more she was right
In saying "It's diable to keep me too late."
So at half-past twelve she rose to go,
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Quincy Arts Festival To Discuss Subsidies
