TWO VOICES.

[A mans and a woman’s.] What is it? what’s the matter?

SOPHY.

[Steadying herself, with an effort.] Nothing.  Only her Grace has gone to Mrs. Eden’s room and wishes her letters taken there in the morning most particularly—­see?

THE VOICES.

What did you ring like that for?  Thought the place was afire!

SOPHY.

Oh, don’t make a fuss about nothing.  You servants are an old-fashioned lot.  Bong swor!

THE VOICES.

[Angrily.] Oh, good-night.

SOPHY.

Ha, ha, ha!

[She closes the door and totters away from it, sobbing hysterically, as QUEX comes to her.

QUEX.

[Kindly.] Be off.  Go to bed.  Serve me how you please.  Miss Fullgarney, upon my soul, I—­I humbly beg your pardon.

SOPHY.

[Passing him.] Oh! oh! oh! [Turning to him.] Oh, God bless you!  You—­you—­you’re a gentleman!  I’ll do what I can for you!

[She staggers to the passage-door and disappears, closing the door behind her.  Then he extinguishes the remaining light, and cautiously lets himself out at the other door.

END OF THE THIRD ACT.

THE FOURTH ACT

The scene is the same, in every respect, as that of the First Act.

[On the right MISS CLARIDGE is manicuring a young gentleman.  On the left MISS MOON is putting her manicure-table in order, as if she has recently disposed of a customer. MISS LIMBIRD is again at her desk, busy over accounts.  The door-gong sounds and, after a short interval, QUEX and FRAYNE enter, preceded by MISS HUDDLE.  FRAYNE appears particularly depressed and unwell.

QUEX.

[Nodding to MISS LIMBIRD.] Good morning.

MISS LIMBIRD.

Morning.

QUEX.

[To MISS HUDDLE.] Miss Fullgarney has not yet arrived, you say?

MISS HUDDLE.

Not yet.

QUEX.

[Looking at his watch.] Twenty minutes to twelve.

MISS MOON.

Yes, we’ve never known Miss Fullgarney to be so late at her business.  I do hope she hasn’t been run over and injured.

MISS HUDDLE.

Or murdered by tramps.

QUEX.

My dear young lady!

MISS MOON.

Well, one does read such things in the ha’penny papers.

MISS HUDDLE.

And she went down to Richmond yesterday afternoon, you know—­to Fauncey
Court.

QUEX.

Of course I know—­and slept there.

MISS MOON.

Oh, did she?

QUEX.

And has come up to town this morning.

MISS HUDDLE.

Then she’ll have gone home, I expect, to change.