[Outside.] Yes. [She comes to the other door, unlocks and opens it. Vere Queckett enters. He is a fresh, breezy, dapper little gentleman of about forty-five, with fair curly hair, a small waxed moustache, and a simple boyish manner. He is dressed in the height of fashion and wears a flower in his coat, and an eyeglass.]
QUECKETT.
Good-morning, Caroline, good-morning.
MISS DYOTT.
How is my little pet to-day? [Kissing his cheek, which he turns to her for the purposed] Naughty Vere is down later than usual. It isn't my fault, dear, the florist was late in sending my flower.
MISS DYOTT.
What a shame!
QUECKETT.
[Shaking out a folded silk handkerchief.] Oh, by-the-bye, Carrie, I want some fresh perfume in my bottles.