My dear, pray forgive me! I really forgot where we were.
Mrs. Gaylustre.
[To Lady Twombley, with a little sob.] You wouldn’t hurt my feelings wilfully, I know.
Lady Twombley.
Not for the world. But it’s a little confusing, mixing up business with pleasure. Imogen, let Lady Effie and Mrs. Gaylustre hear you play your lovely harp, but don’t let the nasty thing hurt your fingers. Brooke, I want to speak to you.
[Lady Euphemia and Imogen stroll out, followed by Mrs. Gaylustre.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
[Mournfully.] I’ll dress now, Katherine, and go down.
Lady Twombley.
Lor’, pa, don’t speak as if you were thinking of our tomb at Kensal Green.