[Lukyn, turning away, discovers Charlotte in the act of lifting the covers from the dishes and inspecting the contents.
Lukyn.
Ah, devilled oysters!
Charlotte.
Oh!
[Drops dish-cover with a crash, and runs over to the table and speaks to Agatha Posket.
Lukyn.
Don’t go—pray look at ’em again—wish I could persuade you to taste them. What am I to do? Shall I promise? Poor Posket! If I don’t promise she’ll cry and won’t go home. The oysters are nearly cold—cold! What must he be! [Drawing aside the curtain, and not seeing Vale, he staggers back.] Gone—and without a cry—brave fellow, brave fellow!
Agatha Posket.
Colonel Lukyn.