De Castro.
She’th a little lump o’ talent, that gal, if you only realithed it; a perfect little lump o’ talent.
Smythe.
Trying to escape. Er—I’ll think it over.
De Castro.
Will yer! An extra thong! That’th all it need be—an extra thong! Oh, it would be thuch an improvement! Von Rettenmayer enters at the double-door. The waiters now go to the tables and lay a plate with a slice of melon upon it at each cover. Here’th the Baron. We’ve been thitting together to-night, I and the Baron. Wringing Smythe’s hand. Thankth. Joining Cooling and the others on the left as Smythe greets Von Rettenmayer. Hullo, Morrith! Shaking hands with Heneage and Grimwood. Well, boyth!
Smythe.
Shaking hands with Von Rettenmayer. Glad to see yer, Baron.
Von Rettenmayer.
Zo good of you to haf me.