The Magistrate: A Farce in Three Acts

by Arthur Wing Pinero

Colonel Lukyn.

Lukyn.

Ah, Blond, how are you? Not a day older. What have you got there?

Blond.

[Quietly to Lukyn in an undertone.] Two ladies, Colonel, downstairs in a cab, must see you for a few minutes alone.

Lukyn.

Good gracious! Excuse me, Vale. [Takes the envelope from Blond, and opens it: reading the enclosed card.] Mrs. Posket—Mrs. Posket! “Mrs. Posket entreats Colonel Lukyn to see her for five minutes upon a matter of urgent necessity, and free from observation.” By George! Posket must be ill in bed—I thought he looked seedy last night. [To Blond.] Of course—of course. Say I’ll come down.

Blond.

It is raining outside. I had better ask them up.

Lukyn.