Quex.
One! many!
Frayne.
No, no, I mean a buster, Harry; a regular night of it—
Quex.
Good lord! go away!
[Mrs. Eden joins Lady Owbridge as Frayne advances to Muriel.
Frayne.
[Taking Muriel's hand.] Dear young lady, you are about to become the wife of one of the best. There are not many of us left; we are a dwindling band, Miss Eden—
[The Duchess comes to Quex.