[Turning to them sharply.] Hsst!
Muriel.
Good-bye!
[Grasping her arm.] Haven't you one loving little speech for me?
Sophy.
[Behind the table.] Gar—r—rh!
[He releases Muriel and picks up a large wooden bowl of bath-soap, just as Miss Limbird re-enters with the hot water. Muriel moves away, hastily.
Sophy.
[To Bastling, taking the soap from him—raising her voice.] Thank you—much obliged. [Transferring the soap to Miss Limbird and relieving her of the bowl of water.] For Captain Bastling, with a bottle of Fleur de Lilas.