May I?
Sophy.
May you! Your hat—get your hat! you'll find me outside in a cab.
[He hurries away.
Miss Limbird, carrying a leather bag, enters, followed by Miss Claridge and Miss Huddle.
Sophy.
[As she, with the aid of her girls, pins on her hat and scrambles into her coat.] You know, girls, many a silly person's head would be turned at being asked to a place like Fauncey Court—as a guest, bear in mind. But there, the houses I've been in!—it's nothing to me. Still, specially invited by the Countess of Owbridge herself—! [Putting her feet in turn upon a chair and hitching up her stockings.] I shall just make rather a favour of manicuring Mrs. Jack. One doesn't go visiting to cut Mrs. Jack's claws. Gloves! Thank goodness, the evenings are long! they say it's simply heavenly at Fauncey Court—simply heaven— [She breaks off abruptly, staring straight before her. Under her breath.] Oh—! Fauncey Court—Lord Quex—!
Miss Claridge.
What's the matter, Miss Fullgarney.