Culch. (genuinely surprised).  A mean cuss?  Me!  Really, this unjustifiable language is most—!

Miss T. Well, I don’t just know what your dictionary term would be for a man who goes and vows exclusive devotion to one young lady, while he’s waiting for his answer from another, and keeps his head close shut to each about it.  Or a man who backs out of his vows by trading off the sloppiest kind of flap-doodle about not wishing to blight the hopes of his dearest friend.  Or a man who has been trying his hardest to get into the good graces again of the young lady he went back on first, so he can cut out that same dearest friend of his, and leave the girl he’s haff engaged to right out in the cold.  And puts it all off on the high-toned-est old sentiments, too.  But I don’t consider the expression, “a mean cuss,” too picturesque for that particular kind of hero myself!

Culch. (breathing hard).  Your feelings have apparently undergone a sudden change—­quite recently!

Miss T. Well, no, the change dates back considerable—­ever since we were at the Villa d’Este.  Only, I like Mr. PODBURY pretty well, and I allowed he ought to have fair play, so I concluded I’d keep you around so you shouldn’t get a chance of spoiling your perfectly splendid act of self-denial—­and I guess I’ve kept you around pretty much all the time!

Culch. (bitterly).  In other words, you have behaved like a heartless coquette!

Miss T. You may put it at that if you like.  Maybe it wouldn’t have been just the square thing to do if you’d been a different sort of man—­but you wanted to be taught that you couldn’t have all the fun of flirtation on your side, and I wasn’t afraid the emotional strain was going to shatter you up to any serious extent.  Now it’s left off amusing me, and I guess it’s time to stop.  I’m as perfectly aware as I can be that you’ve been searching around for some way of getting out of it this long while back—­so there’s no use of your denying you’ll be real enchanted to get your liberty again!

Culch. I may return your charming candour by admitting that my—­er—­dismissal will be—­well, not wholly without its consolations.

Miss T. Then that’s all right!  And if you’ll be obliging enough to hunt up my Poppa and send him along, I guess I can dispense with your further escort, and you can commence those consolations right away.

Culch. (alone).  The little vixen!  Saw I was getting tired of it, and took care to strike first.  Clever—­but a trifle crude.  But I’m free now.  Unfortunately my freedom comes too late.  PODBURY’s Titania is much too enamoured of those ass’s ears of his—­How the brute will chuckle when he hears of this!  But he won’t hear of it from me.  I’ll go in and pack and be off to-morrow morning before he’s up!

    Next Morning.  In the Hall of the Grand Hotel Dandolo.