Contareen. Confound it, ain't he a bachelor? (To L. of table C. from L.)
Lady C. He was when I last saw him.
Contareen. And how long ago was that?
Lady C. I should think an hour and a half.
Contareen. (very perturbed) (sit L. of C. table) Eh? Quite so, quite so. No concern of mine, of course, and all that. Well, what I had to say—the fact is that I—confound Balsted—he's put me off!
Lady C. (wondering) Put you off? Off what, Lord Contareen?
Contareen. You see, I didn't know you were going to have visitors at Swanage.
Lady C. (smiling) Well, that's not unnatural, is it? We've such a large place there!
Contareen. (eagerly) I suppose you wouldn't like me to—