Cis.
[Reading to himself.] “19A, Cork Street. Dear Blond,—Fresh, or rather, stale from India—want to sup with my friend, Captain Vale, to-night, at my old table in my old room. Must do this for Auld Lang Syne. Yours, Alexander Lukyn.” [To Blond.] Oh, let him have it. Where will you put us?
Blond.
You shall have the best room in the house, the one next to this. This room—pah! Come with me. [To Mr. Posket.] Have you known Mr. Farringdon for a long time?
Mr. Posket.
No, no. Not very long.
Blond.
Ah, he is a fine fellow—Mr. Farringdon. Now, if you please. You can go through this door.
[Wheels sofa away and unlocks the door.
Cis.