SWANS. I stop at home.
WOOD. I see!
SWANS. I hit on a very simple plan! I had a regular stock of sudden
indispositions to meet every invitation that came in; headaches,
rheumatisms, lumbagoes, &c., &c., Mrs. Swansdown grumbled a good deal
at first, but she soon got used to it, and----
WOOD. (_suddenly grasping SWANSDOWN'S hand, and shaking it violently_)
Thank you, Swansdown! I'm obliged to you, Swansdown! good night,
Swansdown. (_stopping him again_) One moment--when you married Mrs.
Swansdown, had she got a Carver?
SWANS. A what?
WOOD. A Carver--I mean, a mother?
SWANS. No!
WOOD. Never mind! Good night, Swansdown! Go home to bed, Swansdown!
_Exit SWANSDOWN, L._
I'll try it! I will, by Jove! there's that horrible fancy dress ball
to-morrow night! what "sudden indisposition" shall I have--I've had
the measles----
_Enter LARKINGS at C. in very fashionable evening costume._
LARK. (_R. C., seeing WOODCOCK_) Ah, Woodcock! All alone, eh? I'm
afraid you're not enjoying yourself?
WOOD. (_L. C._) Yes, I am--in a quiet way!
LARK. Delightful party, eh? By-the-bye--I congratulate you--your wife
is really a very nice sort of person--very nice, indeed! (_in a
patronizing tone_) but her dancing has been sadly neglected. However,
make yourself easy, I've engaged her for the next three polkas on
purpose to teach her the proper step!
WOOD. Have you?
LARK. After that I'm engaged to Mrs. Swansdown for the rest of the
evening. Swansdown's gone home as usual! ha, ha! poor Swansdown! "when
the cat's away," you know, eh? ha, ha!
WOOD. (_drawing himself up_) Mr. Christopher Larkings!
LARK. Come, come, Woodcock--that grave face won't do with me, besides,
it isn't because I flirt with my friend's wives that I love them! I
flirt with yours, but I don't love her, at least, not yet! ha, ha! but
I say, old fellow, don't follow Swansdown's example--what can a man on
the wrong side of forty expect if he will go home to bed and leave a
pretty young wife behind him, eh? ha, ha! (_poking WOODCOCK in the
side_)