THE SQUARE CIRCLE. By Denis Maekail. (Hodder and Stoughton, 7s.
6d.)—In a previous novel Mr. Denis Mackail took the roofs off various houses in Greenery Street and allowed us intimate glimpses of their inhabitants. In his latest, longest, and most ambitious story he opens the doors of the genteel and semi-genteel stuccoed mansions that occupy three sides of a typical London square, and the shabby-genteel establishments, taking in boarders, that line the main thorough- fare on the fourth side. The description of the Square and its gardens, with their statue which might pass equally well or badly for " a woman in classical robes or a man in the remains of evening dress," occupies a whole chapter, and exhibits something of a Dickensian vitality and whimsicality. Having shown us the Square itself in its August somnolence, Mr. Mackail permits us to see the blinds of the houses being drawn up in readiness for the return of their residents from Scotland, the South Coast, or the Continent. Back they all come—Sir Herbert Liveright, the financier, in his im- peccable Rolls-Royce • Mr. Justice Melhuish in a car less resplendent ; the Bristow family in a tumble-down taxicab ; Lady Poley, " one of the old sort," and the presiding goddess of the Square ; Miss Carpenter, one of the new sort and the secretary of the Women's Conservative Association ; and others too innumerable to mention. In his well-known manner, which mingles much shrewd characterization with a good deal of merely clever photography and some amusing caricature and satire, Mr. Mackail follows the fortunes and misfortunes of the Square and its denizens during a single year. The five hundred pages contain some " padding." But most of them are very good Mackail, and, therefore, very good fun.
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