[Looking out.] Yes. What's old Napier up to there?
Sophy.
[Guiltily.] I—I heard Captain Bastling mention that he was thinking of having his hand read by Mr. Valma some time or other.
Quex.
No! ha, ha, ha! [Leaving the window.] He doesn't see me; I won't disturb him. [To Sophy, jocularly.] A convenient arrangement—it is possible to transfer oneself from the manicurist to the palmist without the trouble of putting on one's gloves.
Sophy.
Ha, ha! y—yes.
Quex.
[Pausing on his way to the entrance.] Miss Fullgarney, may I ask if you and Mr. Valma have fixed upon the date of your marriage?