The Duchess goes on Friday.
Sophy.
That was it, of course! And then she mumbled something I couldn't catch; and then—listen to this!—then she said "to-night," quite plainly. To-night! and in such a tone of voice! And then he bowed, and out she came with "to-night" again—"to-night," for the second time—and away she went. Now, what do you think that "to-night" of hers means?
Muriel.
[Coldly, seating herself upon the bench.] Nothing—anything.
Sophy.
Nothing!
Muriel.
A hundred topics of conversation would lead to such an expression. [Looking at Sophy steadily.] You are mistaken in the construction you put upon it.