Major Tarver isn't a conversational cracker.
He might have spoken about his lungs or something, to cheer us up.
I fancy Mr. Darbey was about to make a witty remark once.
Yes, and then the servant handed him a dish and he shied at it. So we lost that.
Still, we ought to congratulate ourselves upon--upon a----
Upon a frightfully jolly dinner. [_Taking her betting book from her pocket._] Excuse me, girls. I've some figures to work out. If Dandy Dick hasn't fed better at the "Swan" than we have at the Deanery, he won't be in the first three. [_Reckoning._] Let me see.
[_To SHEBA._] All's settled, Sheba, isn't it?
[_To SALOME._] Yes--everything. Directly the house is silent we let ourselves out at the front door.
By this window. It has a patent safety fastening, so it can be opened with a hairpin.
Yes, I don't consider we're ordinary young ladies, at all.
If we had known Aunt a little longer we might have confided in her and taken her with us.
[_Speaking outside._] I venture to differ with you, my dear Dean.
[_She joins the girls as DARBEY enters through the Library, patronizing THE DEAN, who accompanies him._
Haw! I've just been putting the Dean right about a little army question, Mrs.--Mrs.---- I can't catch your name.
Don't try--you'd come out in spots, like measles.
[DARBEY _stands by her, blankly, then attempts a conversation._
[_To SALOME and SHEBA._] Children, it is useless to battle against it much longer.
A feeling of positive distaste for Mr. Darbey.
Oh, Papsey--think what Wellington was at his age.
Indigestion. I'm always like this after dinner.
But what would you do if the trumpet summoned you to battle?
Oh, I suppose I should pack up a few charcoal biscuits and toddle out, you know.
[_To DARBEY._] I've never studied the Army Guide.
The Turf Guide--beg pardon. I mean, the Army keeps a string of trained nurses, doesn't it?
Certainly. I was wondering whether your Colonel will send one with a perambulator to fetch you at about half-past eight.
[_She leaves DARBEY and goes to THE DEAN. SHEBA joins DARBEY at the piano._
Well, Gus, my boy, you seem out of condition.
I'm rather anxious for the post to bring to-day's "Times." You know I've offered a thousand pounds to our Restoration Fund.