SHORT. (ill-humouredly) At the same time, of course, it will be very dull and uncomfortable for me to be left all alone here while you are out pleasuring—just like you wives, you always think of yourselves first. (with increasing ill humour) But who the deuce was it put the idea into your head?
SWEET. Why, I did, I believe: but to confess the truth, I should never have dreamt of the thing if it hadn’t been for Mr.——
MRS. SHORT. (alarmed, and checking SWEET) No, no! Never mind—it’s of no consequence—don’t let us talk any more about it! (she begins to pull off her gloves)
SWEET. Why, Mrs. Short—what are you doing? (rises)
MRS. SHORT. I see my husband doesn’t wish me to go, and I feel now it wouldn’t be right to leave him; so, although he has given me full permission to go, I shall not avail myself of his kindness——
SHORT. (looking at SWEET) A—hem!
SWEET. (aside) How on earth does he do it? What can be the nature of the influence? He must do something to her.
MRS. SHORT. Well, since I am not going, I may as well take off my things. (to SWEET) You’ll explain matters to Fanny. (aside) What a fright he gave me! (crossing) Just as everything was arranged so nicely—how vexatious!
Exit through door, L. 1 E.
SHORT. (balancing himself, with his thumbs in his waistcoat, looking triumphantly at SWEET) I told you so. Hand me over five pounds!