Lady Maisie. Was I? So absorbed as all that! What with?
Captain Thicknesse. Well, it looked like it—with talkin' to your poetical friend.
Lady Maisie (flushing). He is not my friend in particular; I—I admire his poetry, of course.
Captain Thicknesse (to himself). Can't even speak of him without a change of colour. Bad sign that! (Aloud.) You always were keen about poetry and literature and that in the old days, weren't you? Used to rag me for not readin' enough. But I do now. I was readin' a book only last week. I'll tell you the name if you give me a minute to think—book everybody's readin' just now—no end of a clever book.
[Miss Spelwane rushes across to Lady Maisie.
Miss Spelwane. Maisie, dear, how are you? You look so tired! That's the journey, I suppose. (Whispering.) Do tell me—is that really the author of Andromeda drinking tea close by? You're a great friend of his, I know. Do be a dear, and introduce him to me! I declare the dogs have made friends with him already. Poets have such a wonderful attraction for animals, haven't they?
[Lady Maisie has to bring Spurrell up and introduce him; Captain Thicknesse chooses to consider himself dismissed.
Miss Spelwane (with shy adoration). Oh, Mr. Spurrell, I feel as if I must talk to you about Andromeda. I did so admire it!
Spurrell (to himself). Another of 'em! They seem uncommonly sweet on "bulls" in this house! (Aloud.) Very glad to hear you say so, I'm sure. But I'm bound to say she's about as near perfection as anything I ever—I dare say you went over her points——
Miss Spelwane. Indeed, I believe none of them were lost upon me; but my poor little praise must seem so worthless and ignorant!