FRAYNE.

[Gloomily.] Frankly, Harry, I shouldn’t be in the least surprised if the jade sold you.

QUEX.

[His jaw falling.] You wouldn’t?

FRAYNE.

No.

QUEX.

Phew! I should. [Warmly.] By Jove, I should!

FRAYNE.

I have conceived a great aversion to her—­a long, scraggy gal.

QUEX.

[With enthusiasm.] As full of courage as a thoroughbred!

FRAYNE.

[Closing his eyes.] I can picture her elbows; sharp, pointed elbows—­the barbed fence of the spiteful woman.

QUEX.

Pooh! yesterday she was alluring.

FRAYNE.

[Rising painfully.] Yesterday—! [Gravely.] Harry, do you know there are moments when I feel that I am changing towards the sex; when I fancy I can discern the skeleton, as it were, through the rounded cheek?

QUEX.

You!

FRAYNE.

Yes, this novel sentiment is undoubtedly gaining possession of your old friend—­gradually, perhaps, but surely.

QUEX.

[Regarding him searchingly.] Excuse me, Chick—­did you turn into the Beefsteak when you got back from Richmond last night?

FRAYNE.

For an hour.  Oh, a great mistake.

QUEX.

What, a little whisky on the top of champagne?

FRAYNE.

[Gazing pathetically at QUEX with watery eyes.] A good deal of champagne underneath a lot of whisky.

[The door-gong sounds.

QUEX.

Who’s this? [He walks to the entrance, and looks into the further room.] The Fullgarney.

[He returns to his former position, as SOPHY enters quickly followed by MISS CLARIDGE, MISS MOON, and MISS HUDDLE.  SOPHY—­dressed as at the end of the First Act—­is pale, red-eyed, and generally unstrung.  She comes to QUEX, disconcerted by his presence.

SOPHY.

[Confronting him.] Oh, good morning.

QUEX.

May I beg a few moments—?

SOPHY.

Er—­certainly.  I’ll just take off my things—­

[He joins FRAYNE. She goes across the room where she is surrounded by her girls.

MISS CLARIDGE.

Oh, Miss Fullgarney, how ill you look!

MISS MOON.

You do seem queer!

MISS HUDDLE.

Just as if you were sickening for something.

MISS LIMBIRD.

[Coming between MISS CLARIDGE and SOPHY.] Quite ghostly!

SOPHY.

I’m all right, girls; I’ve had a bad night, that’s all. [Giving her umbrella to MISS CLARIDGE and her bag to MISS MOON, who passes it to MISS HUDDLE.] Here! hi! take that beastly bag. [To MISS LIMBIRD, who is removing her hat.] Oh, don’t waggle my head, whatever you do! [To MISS MOON, who is pulling at her jacket.] Tear the thing off. [Stripping off her gloves, and speaking in a whisper.] Girls, I don’t want to be disturbed for five minutes.