You ride.
HE. I'll go on to Peliti's too. I think I want a drink. My world's knocked
about my ears and the stars are falling. Who are those brutes howling in the
Old Library?
SHE. They're rehearsing the singing-quadrilles for the Fancy Ball. Can't you
hear Mrs. Buzgago's voice? She has a solo. It's quite a new idea. Listen.
MRS. BUZGAGO (in the Old Library, con. molt. exp.).
See-saw! Margery Daw!
Sold her bed to lie upon straw.
Wasn't she a silly slut
To sell her bed and lie upon dirt?
Captain Congleton, I'm going to alter that to "flirt." It sound better.
HE. No, I've changed my mind about the drink. Good night, little lady. I shall
see you tomorrow?
SHE. Y~es. Good night, Guy. Don't be angry with me.
HE. Angry! You know I trust you absolutely. Good night and-God bless you!
(Three seconds later. Alone.) Hmm! I'd give something to discover whether
there's another man at the back of all this.
A SECOND-RATE WOMAN
Est fuga, volvitur rota,
On we drift; where looms the dim port?
One Two Three Four Five contribute their quota:
Something is gained if one caught but the import,
Show it us, Hugues of Saxe-Gotha.
--Master Hugues of Saxe-Gotha.
"DRESSED! Don't tell me that woman ever dressed in her life.
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