Leave him on the stoop if he shows up uninvited. Let him hear the festivities of Wragby, but only fantasize about his soft palms on the ladies’ bare white shoulders and the men’s tight rumps.
Send him back home to the bedsit he shares with his tailless Cymric, who enjoys a read-aloud of Endgame while lapping clotted cream from the Belleek bowl.
Rather, invite the gamekeeper who smells like his sheep and whose rough hands and Scots brogue please all the guests.