Theophila.
[Throwing herself upon the settee in a careless attitude, smoking.] Oh, thank God for this rest! [Looking round.] So this is the little place you used to tell me about——
John.
[Standing, watching her, apprehensively.] Um——
Theophila.
Phew! Your fire’s all right to look at——! [She removes her cape from her shoulders and flings it away from her; he picks it up, and places it over the back of a chair.] Never mind that rag. Are you likely to be in Paris?
John.
I—I’m not fond of Paris.
Theophila.
[Jumping up, and speaking volubly, excitedly, boisterously.] Suppose that wire don’t find Emily, and she doesn’t meet me at the Nord to-morrow night. Ugh! cheerful! She may be dead, No, no; not Emily. Poor old Emily! Be sure you look me up if you should pass through. Rue Poissonnière, 18. You’re bound to be rambling soon. How lucky a man is! Does just as he chooses. Good chap, So-and-so—awfully rackety—but the world would be a dooced deal livelier if there were more like him! That’s what they all say of a man!... phew!... [As she rattles on, she takes off her bonnet and clears her hair from her brow.] But a woman! Well, look at me. Not that anybody will look at me, in Paris or elsewhere. I used to know several smart people in Paris! Now! Oh, my stars, won’t they stalk distant objects when they see me coming along! [Angrily.] Ah, a gay time I shall have of it, shut up with Emily Graveney, with her red nose, and her poor, narrow chest, and her perpetual sniffle! [She flings away her cigarette. Her hair is disordered, her breath comes quickly, there is a wild look in her eyes. Her bonnet falls to the floor. He paces the room distractedly.] By Jove, I won’t have a dull time though! I shall only hang out with Emily long enough just to turn round. Then I’ll take a little appartement of my own. Uncle Fletcher will make me an allowance; I won’t touch a penny of—puh—his money. I’ll let the world see how happy I am without the character I’ve been robbed of! Yes, robbed of! [Laughing noisily.] Ha, ha, ha! [Snapping her fingers.] Pish! I shall burst out laughing in the face of the whole world, Jack—put my tongue out at the world, your wife, my husband! After the solemn farce we’ve all gone through. [Between her teeth.] Y—y—yes, they shall have a pretty picture in their minds of me, t’other side of the Channel, with my finger to my nose like a cheeky urchin! Oh, my heavens, how I hate ’em—hate ’em—hate ’em!