haggard, his clothes mussed, his linen rumpled and soiled. He is painfully nervous and agitated; he cannot keep still; as soon as he sits down he gets up; he goes from one place in the room to another, taking up a picture without looking at it, sitting down and getting up again. Twice he half whispers, half groans, "Good God!" He takes out a pistol from his pocket, looks at it, and puts it away again as Lizzie enters Right.
Lizzie. Miss Carley says she'll be in as soon as she can.
Steven. [Rising and going to the dressing table.] Is she dressing for the ball now?
Lizzie. No, sir, she's wearing a tea gown for dinner; it'll be a grand sight, the ball, sir!
Steven. I suppose so.
Lizzie. Pity we couldn't 'ave got the Grand Duke here, sir, to dinner.
Steven. [Moving about.] We couldn't afford to entertain a Russian prince, Lizzie,—don't tell your mistress,—but I've been speculating again and we're hard up.
Lizzie. Oh, I am so sorry, sir—I know how to sympathize with you, though we did get our money back! Perhaps you'll get yours.
Steven. How about you and Moles?
[Comes to Lizzie.