Coming? Why didn't you bring it with you?
I walk quicker than the cab, ma'am. It's a good horse, slow, but very certain.
[_To himself._] Just what the horse has done. [_To AGATHA POSKET._] Yes, ma'am.
[_Nervously._] I wish you would allow me to go to the club, my pet.
Æneas, I am surprised at your obstinacy. It is so very different from my first husband.
Really, Agatha, I am shocked. I presume the late Mr. Farringdon occasionally used his clubs.
Indian clubs. Indian clubs are good for the liver, London clubs are not. Good-night!
He would want to give the direction to the cabman!
The first tiff. [_To MR. POSKET._] Good-night, Mr. Posket.
[_To MR. POSKET._] Have you any message for Lady Jenkins?
I will deliver your message in the presence of Sir George, who, I may remind you, is the permanent Secretary at the Home Office.
[_AGATHA POSKET and CHARLOTTE go out; MR. POSKET paces up and down excitedly._
Gurrh? I'm not to go to the club! I set a bad example to Cis! Ha! ha! I am different from her first husband. Yes, I am--I'm alive for one thing. I--I--I--I--I'm dashed if I don't go out with the boy.
[_Putting his head in at the door._] Coast clear, Guv? All right.
_Enter CIS, in fashionable evening dress, carrying MR. POSKET'S overcoat and hat._
Where on earth did you get that dress suit?
Mum's the word, Guv. Brighton tailor--six months' credit. He promised to send in the bill to you, so the mater won't know. [_Putting MR. POSKET'S hat on his head._] By Jove, Guv, don't my togs show you up?
I won't go, I won't go. I've never met such a boy before.
[_Proceeds to help him with his overcoat._] Mind your arm, Guv. You've got your hand in a pocket. No, no--that's a tear in the lining. That's it.
Yes, Guv. And I forbid you to eat any of those devilled oysters we shall get at the Hotel des Princes. Now you're right!
Oh, I forgot! [_He pulls out a handful of loose money._] I found this money in your desk, Guv. You had better take it out with you; you may want it. Here you are--gold, silver, and coppers. [_He empties the money into MR. POSKET'S overcoat pocket._] One last precaution, and then we're off.
[_Goes to the writing-table, and writes on a half-sheet of note-paper._
I shall take a turn round the Square, and then come home again! I will not be influenced by a mere child! A man of my responsible position--a magistrate--supping slily at the Hotel des Princes, in Meek Street--it's horrible.