of bustle as the men claim their partners. TAVISH goes to EVANGELINE,
GRIMWOOD to, FLO, PALK and GLYNN to OLGA and SYBIL, and gradually the
assemblage melts away._
FULKERSON.
[_Coming to JIMMIE, who is conning her programme, and standing before
her-- reading from his programme._] "_Vawlse. Cry dee cure._"
JIMMIE.
[_With withering accuracy._] "_Valse. Cri de coeur._"
FULKERSON.
[_Wagging his head._] Very likely. Come along, Jimmie.
JIMMIE.
[_Rising and shaking herself out._] Jane to you, _if_ you please.
FULKERSON.
Tosh!
JIMMIE.
I was christened Jane, _Herbert_.
FULKERSON.
Well, I wasn't at the christening, see.
JIMMIE.
No; but if you are not more careful of those feet of yours while
you're waltzing, you _will_ be at my funeral.
[_She takes his arm and they go out at the door on the left. SMYTHE,
STIDULPH, COOLING, and SHIRLEY follow, talking together. All the
couples have now disappeared except VON RETTENMAYER and ENID and
FARNCOMBE and LILY. VON RETTENMAYER and ENID are at the counter, where
LUIGI is giving VON RETTENMAYER a glass of champagne, and the waiters
are busying themselves in collecting the soiled glasses, plates, etc.,
which have been left upon the mantel-piece and chairs. The bearded
waiter comes to LILY and she hands him her plate._
FARNCOMBE.
[_To LILY._] Shall we go down?
[_She rises, leaving her bouquet upon the settee, and is about to put
her arm through FARNCOMBE'S when she checks herself and looks at her
programme._
LILY.
[_Frowning._] Tsss!
FARNCOMBE.
Eh?
LILY.
[_In a low voice._] One, two, three, four--! Why, this-- this is our
fifth dance!
FARNCOMBE.
[_Softly._] Yes.
LILY.
Five out of eight!
FARNCOMBE.
[_Looking at his programme._] And 10, 12, and 14 are mine, too.
LILY.
[_With a movement of her shoulders, accepting his arm._] How unfair!
FARNCOMBE.
[_As they go to the right-hand door at the back._] Unfair?
LILY.
To the others. I can't think what made me so thoughtless.
[_They disappear. Two of the waiters carry out the soiled glasses,
etc.; another follows with the ices, and the bearded waiter with the
strawberries-and-cream. After a while, LUIGI also withdraws._
ENID.
[_Leaving the counter with VON RETTENMAYER._] Well, what did you say
to him?
VON RETTENMAYER.
I told him the biece wants lifding in the zecond aggd and that he
ought to gif you anoder dance.
ENID.
[_On the right._] What did _he_ say?
VON RETTENMAYER.
He will think it over!
ENID.
[_Scornfully._] Ha! That's Smythe's invariable formula, cunning old
fox!
VON RETTENMAYER.
But we are to dalk aboud it lader. I am waiding to ged him alone.
ENID.
Pff! _You_ won't get him alone, you stupid; _he'll_ take precious good
care of that. [_Finding that LUIGI and the waiters have departed, and
walking across to the left._] Ah, but it isn't dancing my mind's
dwelling on just now, dear boy.
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_Following her._] Nod?
ENID.
It's rest I'm yearning for-- my holiday!-- rest for my weary bones.
[_Turning to him without a sign of disturbance._] Karl, I'm simply
bursting with rage.
VON RETTENMAYER.
Rage?
ENID.
That wretched hotel at Ostend-- the Plage! They've the confounded
impudence to ask me a hundred-and-twenty-five francs a day for two
cubby-holes on the third floor, for my aunt and me.
VON RETTENMAYER.
Monsdrous. [_With a shrug._] But Ostend is-- Ostend.
ENID.
Thanks for the information. Is that all the sympathy you can offer?
VON RETTENMAYER.
Bardon. [_Humbly._] There may be gheaper hodels.
ENID.
Where the common people pay for their beds and meals with Cook's
coupons! [_Sitting upon the arm of the further settee in the centre
and swinging her feet._] Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose it'll have
to be Swanage, or some brisk resort of that description. [_Sighing._]
So be it! [_Humming._] Tra, lal, lal, la----!
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_Sitting on the nearer settee in the centre, close to her, with an
anxious expression._] A hundred-and-twendy-five frangks a day?
ENID.
Including nothing-- absolutely nothing!
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_Biting his nails._] Prezisely! There's the eading and dringking.
ENID.
One can't starve, that's certain.
VON RETTENMAYER.
Which would amound to----?
ENID.
[_Watching him out of the corner of her eye._] I believe aunt and I
could manage to feed ourselves on forty francs a day-- or fifty-- at a
pinch.
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_His face growing longer and longer._] A hundred-and-twendy-five--
and fifdy----
ENID.
A hundred-and-seventy-five. [_Stroking his hair with a finger._] Call
it two hundred.
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_Leaning back appalled._] Fifdy-sigs bounds a weeg!
ENID.
Sixty, in round figures.
VON RETTENMAYER.
For a fordnight?
ENID.
Oh, no, dear; a fortnight's no use.
VON RETTENMAYER.
But one begomes sig of a blace afder a fordnight.
ENID.
If you only go for enjoyment; not if you go for rest-- rest.
VON RETTENMAYER.
Three weegs, then?
ENID.
A month. Smythe gives me the whole of August.
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_Passing his hand across his forehead._] A month!
ENID.
[_Rising and carefully picking a piece of fluff from her skirt._]
We're losing this dance. Shall we have a turn?
[_He gets to his feet with some difficulty and then faces her._
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_Breathing heavily._] Enid----
ENID.
[_Guilelessly._] Yes?
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_Putting his heels together and bowing to her._] If you would permid
me to be your bangker during your sday at Ostend-- four weegs----
ENID.
Karl----
VON RETTENMAYER.
I should be mosd gradified.
ENID.
[_Going to him._] I couldn't. Such an obligation!
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_Bowing again._] On my side.
ENID.
[_Giving him her hands._] Of course, I'd defray my travelling
expenses, and tips and incidentals----
VON RETTENMAYER.
[_Raising her hands to his lips._] Ah!----
ENID.
Not a penny of those should fall on you. [_Withdrawing her hands
quickly and backing away from him._] H'sh!
[_STIDULPH enters at the door on the left and again wanders to the
counter._
STIDULPH.
[_Taking another cigarette._] You're missing a very pretty waltz, Miss
Moncreiff.
ENID.
[_Going to the door on the left, VON RETTENMAYER following her._]
I was just saying so to the Baron.
[_ENID and VON RETTENMAYER disappear. STIDULPH lights his cigarette
and is leaving the counter when GABRIELLE and DE CASTRO enter at the
right-hand door at the back, DE CASTRO looking exceedingly sulky._
STIDULPH.
[_To GABRIELLE and DE CASTRO._] Ah, Miss Kato; ah, Sam! A pleasant
party, eh?
DE CASTRO.
[_Shortly._] Yeth. [_STIDULPH goes out at the right-hand door at the
back. DE CASTRO crosses to the left and then turns to GABRIELLE._] Dam
pleathant party!
GABRIELLE.
[_Dolefully._] Well, don't make a scene.
DE CASTRO.
Thene! _I'm_ not makin' a thene. Walkin' away from me in the middle of
a danthe and leavin' me thtandin' thtarin' after you like a detherted
child! _You're_ makin' the thene!
GABRIELLE.
I'm very sorry.
DE CASTRO.
I'm jutht ath good a waltzther ath anyone here, and better than motht.
[_Waving his arms._] If you're tired of me, announthe the fact
quietly. Don't go and wipe your bootth on me in public, becauthe that
hurtth my pride.
GABRIELLE.
[_With a little twist of her body._] I can't do more than apologise.
First time I've ever done _that_ to a man.
DE CASTRO.
[_Coming to her, mollified._] I don't athk it, Gabth; I don't athk it.
All I athk----
GABRIELLE.
[_Sitting on the nearer settee in the centre._] If I'm rude, it's
owing to my low spirits. I'm so shockingly low-spirited.
DE CASTRO.
I know you are, and I make allowanthes for yer. I repeat, all I
athk----
GABRIELLE.
[_Gazing at vacancy._] Mine's a strange nature. _On_ the stage, I'm
liveliness itself----!
DE CASTRO.
A perfect little lump o' talent! I've been tellin' Carlton tho--
perthuadin' him to introduthe an extra thong for you in Act Two.
GABRIELLE.
[_Looking at DE CASTRO._] You have?
DE CASTRO.
Yeth.
GABRIELLE.
Did he promise to think it over?
DE CASTRO.
Hith exthact wordth!
GABRIELLE.
[_With a hollow laugh._] Ha, ha, ha! [_Resuming her former attitude._]
As I was remarking, I'm a mass of inconsistency. _On_ the stage the
embodiment of elfish fun----
DE CASTRO.
That wath in the _Mail_.
GABRIELLE.
[_Nodding._] In the _Mail_. _Off_ the stage, I'm a sufferer from
what's called the artistic temperature-- no-- temperament----
DE CASTRO.
[_Uncomfortably, patting her shoulder._] Po' little girl; po' little
girl!
GABRIELLE.
[_Her melancholy increasing._] Sometimes I've an idea that if I had a
motor-car of my _own_ I should feel easier and happier.
DE CASTRO.
[_With a change of tone._] What d'ye mean-- motor-car of yer own?
Mine'th alwayth at your dithpothal, ithn't it?
GABRIELLE.
[_Shaking her head._] That's not the same thing. Whenever I have yours
out, I'm weighed down by a sense of borrowing.
DE CASTRO.
Well, if I gave you a new car, you'd be weighed down by a thenthe of
my havin' paid for it.
GABRIELLE.
At first I should, but not for long. Seeing my family crest on the
door-panels, instead of your monogram, 'ud help me to forget you'd had
anything to do with it. [_Gloomily._] Of course, it 'ud only be an
experiment. It might cheer me up, or it mightn't.
[_The music ceases. A waiter carrying a tray enters at the door on the
left, goes behind the counter, and mixes some drinks._
DE CASTRO.
[_After a pause, loosening his collar-- in a low voice._] Here! We'd
better dithcuth thith experiment. [_Glancing over his shoulder at the
waiter._] Let'th come and thit in the pit.
GABRIELLE.
[_Rising._] I can't argue; my head's too bad for that.
DE CASTRO.
[_Leading her to the double-door._] I don't want to argue; I thimply
want to arrive at an underthtandin'. Thuppothin' I buy you a car, am I
to be made an arth of at the nexth danthe we happen to meet at-- yeth
or no?----
[_They go out on to the landing and disappear as FULKERSON hurries in
at the right-hand door at the back. His eyes are rather glassy and his
utterance is a little thick._
FULKERSON.
[_To the waiter, joining him behind the counter._] Hi! Wake up, there!
Gla'sodawa'erf'misspirch'nth'stage. [_Distinctly._] Misspirch-- on
th'stage-- gla'-- sodawa'er. I'll have a whiskey. Wh'sthwhiskey?
Which-- is-- the-- whiskey? Than'g. [_Pouring some whiskey into a
tumbler._] You take sodaw'er t' Misspirch; I'll mix m'own whiskey.
Loo' sharp, sodaw'er Misspirch. [_The waiter goes out with the drinks
and FULKERSON, glass in hand, comes to the nearer side of the counter.
He swallows his drink greedily, singing to himself between the
gulps._] "Oh, the gals! Oh, the gals! I am awfully fond of the gals!
[_Putting his empty glass upon the counter and making for the door on
the left._] Be they ebon or blond, Of the gals I am fond; I am
_dreadfully_ fond of the gals!"
[_He vanishes as FARNCOMBE and LILY enter at the right-hand door at
the back. There is an air of constraint and uneasiness about the girl.
She comes to the nearer settee in the centre and again picks up her
bouquet. FARNCOMBE follows her. They talk in subdued voices and with
frequent pauses._
FARNCOMBE.
Another ice?
LILY.
[_Rearranging a rose, almost inaudibly._] No, thanks.
FARNCOMBE.
[_After a pause._] I-- I wish I had given you a bouquet instead of a
big, ugly basket.
LILY.
Why?
FARNCOMBE.
You-- you might have brought it to the theatre, as you have that one,
and carried it about with you.
LILY.
[_Coldly._] I didn't bring this to the theatre.
FARNCOMBE.
No?
LILY.
I found it with a lot of other flowers at the stage-door. It's from
the gallery boys-- [_looking at him for a moment steadily_]-- and I
attach some value to it.
[_The bearded waiter enters at the right-hand door at the back, takes
a box of cigars from the counter, and goes out at the door on the
left. LILY walks away from FARNCOMBE and seats herself upon the
further settee in the centre._
FARNCOMBE.
[_After the waiter has withdrawn, producing his programme._] Number
Nine. "_Two Step. Mind the Paint._" [_To LILY._] Of course, you-- you
are engaged for this?
LILY.
And you, surely?
FARNCOMBE.
No, I-- I kept it open, in case-- in case----
LILY.
[_Decidedly._] I dance it with Morrie.
FARNCOMBE.
Mr. Cooling?
LILY.
Morrie Cooling.
FARNCOMBE.
[_After another pause, sitting, behind her, upon the nearer settee._]
Miss Parradell.
LILY.
Well?
FARNCOMBE.
I wonder whether Mr. Cooling would let you off.
LILY.
I shouldn't dream of asking him.
FARNCOMBE.
No, but-- may _I_?
LILY.
[_Haughtily._] I beg you'll do nothing of the sort.
FARNCOMBE.
Forgive me.
[_There is a further pause and then she turns to him._
LILY.
Why I spoke so-- so sharply to you-- was----
FARNCOMBE.
You didn't speak sharply to me.
LILY.
Was because I've been very nasty with Morrie-- wrote him a furious
letter-- and I want to make it up to him.
FARNCOMBE.
Ah, yes.
LILY.
I called him a pig, and other things; I hate myself for it.
FARNCOMBE.
A pig?
LILY.
[_Smiling._] Still, that's no reason why I should be nasty with _you_.
FARNCOMBE.
[_Laughingly._] And call _me_ a pig.
LILY.
[_Impulsively, kneeling upon the settee so that she may compare her
programme with his._] Look here! Fifteen-- the last but one. Are you
fixed up for Fifteen?
FARNCOMBE.
No.
LILY.
No!
FARNCOMBE.
I kept it open-- in case----
LILY.
[_Merrily._] Ha, ha--! [_Checking herself, severely._] I _might_ be
able to give you Fifteen. [_FARNCOMBE scribbles on his programme
eagerly._] Don't count on it, please; but it's booked to Mr.
Fulkerson, and Bertie's not always to be depended upon at that hour.
FARNCOMBE.
Thank you-- thank you-- thank you. [_She resumes her seat and he jumps
up and goes to her._] That reminds me. May I ask who is going to see
you home, Miss Parradell?
LILY.
See me home?
FARNCOMBE.
It would be an honour that I should-- appreciate-- more than I can--
find words to express.
LILY.
[_Rising, sternly._] I am very much obliged to you. [_Walking away
from him again._] I dare say Mr. Roper will see me home-- and Mr. de
Castro-- and Mr. Bland----
FARNCOMBE.
[_Following her, unhappily._] I-- I hope-- I-- I hope I haven't
offended you.
LILY.
Not in the least; [_in a frigid tone_] only I am in the habit of
relying on old friends for those little services.
[_STIDULPH enters from the landing and again wanders to the counter
and to the cigarettes. The "Mind the Paint" air, to the time of a Two
Step, is played in the distance._
FARNCOMBE.
[_Bowing to LILY slightly and drawing himself up._] Shall I-- take you
to Mr. Cooling?
LILY.
[_With dignity, inclining her head._] Will you? [_She is putting her
hand through his arm when the look upon his face softens her. She
drops her voice to a whisper._] Have I hurt you?
FARNCOMBE.
Oh, I deserve the rebuke.
LILY.
No, you don't. [_Gently._] You may leave me at my door, with the
others, if it will give you any satisfaction.
[_As they walk to the door on the left, they are met by COOLING._
COOLING.
[_To LILY, breathlessly._] Haw! Here you are!
LILY.
[_Leaving FARNCOMBE, her manner altering completely._] Come on,
Morrie! [_Her feet moving to the music._] Tra, lal, la! Tra, lal, la!
[_Giving her bouquet to FARNCOMBE._] Hi-i-i-i-i! Bring my flowers!
COOLING AND LILY.
Tra, lal, la! Tra, lal, la----!
[_They run out, half dancing._
STIDULPH.
[_Calling to FARNCOMBE, who is following them._] Lord Farncombe!
FARNCOMBE.
Yes?
STIDULPH.
[_Going to him._] Will you spare me a moment?
FARNCOMBE.
[_A little impatiently._] Er-- certainly.
STIDULPH.
[_Laying a shaky hand on FARNCOMBE'S arm and leading him away from the
door._] Excuse me for what I'm going to say to you. I-- I know your
father-- knew him very well years ago-- and your mother. [_With deep
feeling._] My boy-- my dear boy----
FARNCOMBE.
[_Surprised._] Colonel?
STIDULPH.
I-- I-- I'm sorry to find you in this set.
FARNCOMBE.
[_Stiffly._] What do you mean?
STIDULPH.
Don't be angry with me. I'm an old man-- and an old fool; but it's
from the fools that the useful lessons are to be learned.
FARNCOMBE.
[_Withdrawing his arm from STIDULPH._] I really don't understand you.
STIDULPH.
Try to. Not now-- another time; when this music isn't exciting you,
nor these pretty women. Think it out by yourself! You're at the
beginning of your career, my boy. Remember me-- the old fool who's
brought _his_ to a miserable end-- and that I cautioned you--
cautioned you--!
[_LUIGI hurries in at the door on the left, followed by a waiter
carrying a tray, and by the waiter with the beard._
LUIGI.
[_Laughing._] He, he, he, he! [_Behind the counter, preparing
drinks._] Look out, gentlemen; you are losing it all. They are having
a romp-- a fine lark. [_FARNCOMBE goes out at the door on the left._]
Make haste, Colonel; make haste! [_STIDULPH goes out, slowly, at the
right-hand door at the back._] Whiskey-and-soda for Mr. Tavish;
liqueur of brandy-- Mr. Grimwood. [_The waiter carrying the tray goes
out with the drinks at the door on the left._] Ha, ha, ha! [_Singing
to the music._] Tra, lal, la! Tra, lal, la----!
[_LUIGI is following the waiter who has carried out the tray when the
bearded waiter, coming to the nearer settee in the centre, calls to
him._
THE BEARDED WAITER.
[_Sitting upon the settee, gruffly._] Luigi.
LUIGI.
[_Halting._] Eh?
THE BEARDED WAITER.
[_Taking out a handful of money and selecting some gold from it._]
Here! [_Putting the gold into LUIGI'S palm._] For your chaps.
LUIGI.
Oh, you are spoiling them.
THE BEARDED WAITER.
[_Giving some more gold pieces to LUIGI._] For you.
LUIGI.
[_Bowing low._] Thank you very much. [_With a polite grin, as he
disposes of the coins in different pockets._] Hope you have enjoyed
yourself, Captain.
THE BEARDED WAITER.
[_Speaking in the voice of JEYES._] Thoroughly. [_Quietly, between his
teeth._] Warm work, though! [_Rising slowly, like a man with stiff
joints._] I'll be off now, with your permission.
LUIGI.
See you at lunch, Captain?
JEYES.
Probably. [_Nodding._] Good-night. Good morning. [_He slouches away to
the door on the left and there stops, listening. There is the sound of
people approaching, singing uproariously and shouting and laughing._]
Hullo!
LUIGI.
[_At his elbow._] Ho, ho, ho, ho!
[_LUIGI goes out into the corridor and JEYES retreats behind the
counter. The noise increases and presently FULKERSON rushes in,
flourishing his arms madly. He is followed by GLYNN and SHIRLEY who
are carrying LILY upon their interlocked hands, and by PALK who is
helping to support her. Then come HENEAGE and NITA, GRIMWOOD and
DAPHNE, TAVISH and FLO, VON RETTENMAYER and ENID, DE CASTRO and
GABRIELLE, ROPER and MRS. STIDULPH, FARNCOMBE and JIMMIE, BLAND and
EVANGELINE, COOLING and SYBIL, and SMYTHE and OLGA. Singing the chorus
of the "Mind the Paint" song, and dancing to it wildly, they circle
the saloon twice, go out at the right-hand door at the back, return at
the door on the left, and finally disappear through the double-door
and along the landing. The waiters, who have brought up the rear of
the procession, gather, with LUIGI, in the left-hand corner, clapping
their hands, and STIDULPH returns, entering at the right-hand door at
the back._
LILY.
[_Waving her bouquet and shrieking with laughter._] Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Don't drop me! Don't drop me!
HENEAGE AND GRIMWOOD.
[_Yelling._] Whoop! Whoop!
FULKERSON.
[_Deliriously, endeavouring to stand upon his head._] Wh-o-o-op!
JIMMIE.
[_Breaking from the rank and jumping on to the further settee--
singing._] "Mind the paint! Mind the paint! A girl is not a sinner
just because she's not a saint!----"
LILY.
Ha, ha, ha! You'll drop me! Oh----!
[_As the procession passes out of sight, followed by LUIGI and the
waiters, JEYES departs at the door on the left and STIDULPH once more
goes to the counter and lights a cigarette._
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
THE THIRD ACT
_The scene is LILY'S boudoir-- a room upon the second floor of her
house, adjoining her bedroom. The decorations, though delicate, are
gay, with a good deal of pink in them._
_In the wall facing the spectator are two doors, one on the left, the
other in the centre. The left-hand door opens into the room from the
landing, where the staircase is shown; the centre door admits to the
bedroom. In the right-hand wall there are two sash-windows giving a
view of the tops of trees growing in a square; in the opposite wall,
the grate hidden by a low, painted screen, is the fireplace._
_A prettily designed "fitment" runs along the left-hand wall and the
further wall, taking in the fireplace and doors as part of its scheme.
On either side of the fireplace there is a cupboard with drawers
beneath it; between the door on the left and the door in the centre is
a similar cupboard; and on the right of the centre door, extending to
the right-hand wall, there is a wardrobe with sliding doors. The
cupboard doors are glazed and curtained in pink silk._
_In the middle of the room, a little to the right, there is a large
and comfortable settee, and on the left of the settee is a table
littered with books, magazines, a scent-atomizer, a small
silver-framed mirror, a case of manicure instruments, a box of
cigarettes and a match-stand, and other odds and ends. Behind the
table there is a fauteuil-stool, and on the right of the table a cosy
arm-chair. A second arm-chair stands apart, between the table in the
centre and the fireplace._
_On the extreme left of the room, on the nearer side of the fireplace,
there is a box-ottoman; on the other side of the room, by the nearer
window, are a small writing-table and chair; standing across the
right-hand corner, the key-board towards the further window, are a
cottage-piano and a music-stool; and at the back of the piano there is
another small chair, with some soiled gloves upon it._
_A quantity of music is heaped untidily on the top of the piano; one
of the wardrobe doors is open, revealing some dresses hanging within;
and the edge of a lace petticoat, with its insertion of coloured
ribbon, peeps out from under the carelessly-closed lid of the
box-ottoman. Two milliner's hat-boxes are on the floor by the ottoman,
and a pair of satin slippers are lying, one here, one there, under the
centre table._
_The window-blinds are down but the daylight is seen through them._
[_The door on the left opens and LILY, still carrying her bouquet,
enters and makes straight for the windows and draws up the blinds,
letting in the clear, morning light. She is followed by ENID,
GABRIELLE, DAPHNE, and JIMMIE and they by FARNCOMBE, VON RETTENMAYER,
DE CASTRO, ROPER, FULKERSON, and BLAND. They are all pale and haggard,
and slightly dishevelled, but everybody seems broad awake except
DAPHNE, who is borne down by sleepiness. Some of the men are smoking._
LILY.
[_Laying her bouquet upon the table in the centre as she crosses to
the windows-- to the women._] Come in, dears; [_drawing up the blind
of the nearer window_] come in, boys. Take off your things for a
minute.
FULKERSON.
[_Whose inebriety has reached the argumentative stage._] Working
classhes! Don' talk t' me 'bout th' working classhes!
JIMMIE.
H'sh! Shut up, Bertie.
FULKERSON.
I'm s'h'ick o' th' ve'y mention o' th' name-- working classhes!
JIMMIE.
Sit on his head, somebody. We shall wake Ma and the servants.
LILY.
[_Taking off her wrap and hanging it up in the wardrobe._] Don't
worry; you won't wake _my_ servants. And mother's bound to hear us;
she sleeps so lightly when I'm out.
DAPHNE.
[_Gaping violently._] Oh-h-h-h!
JIMMIE.
[_Clapping her hand over DAPHNE'S mouth._] Manners!
FULKERSON.
[_Depositing his overcoat and hat upon the fauteuil-stool._] One 'ud
'magine th' working-man'sh th' on'y pershon who ever does day'sh work!
Ridiculush!
VON RETTENMAYER AND BLAND.
Ha, ha, ha, ha!
DE CASTRO.
Thome truth in what Bertie'th thayin', though. For inthtanthe----
FULKERSON.
[_With great disgust._] Br'ish working-man!
ROPER.
By Jove, yes! When I think o' the work Mr. Lionel Hesketh Roper
manages to dispose of in the course of a day----!
[_VON RETTENMAYER and DE CASTRO have placed their overcoats and hats
upon the chair at the back of the piano and FARNCOMBE, BLAND, and
ROPER have piled theirs on the arm-chair on the left. ENID and
GABRIELLE throw their wraps upon the settee, DAPHNE drops hers upon
the box-ottoman, and JIMMIE puts hers over the arm of the chair by the
centre table._
LILY.