The Y. L. That is quite true; indeed, I occasionally relieve my feelings by the composition of Greek or Latin verses, which I find, on the whole, better adapted to express the subtler emotions. Don't you agree with me there?
Culch. (who has done no Greek or Latin verse since he left school). Doubtless. But I am hindering your sketch?
The Y. L. No, I was merely saturating my mind with the general effect. I shall not really begin my sketch till to-morrow. I am going now. I hope the genius of the place will inspire you.
Culch. Thank you. I trust it will—er—have that effect. (To himself after the Young Lady has left the terrace.) Now, that's a very superior girl—she has intellect, style, culture—everything the ideal woman should have. I wonder, now, whether, if I had met her before—but such speculations are most unprofitable! How clear her eyes looked through her pince-nez! Blue-grey, like Athene's own. If I'd been with Podbury, I should never have had this talk. The sight of him would have repelled her at once. I shall tell him when I take him that book that he had better go his own way with his new friends. I like the view from this terrace—I shall come up here again—often.
Scene—The Conversations-Saal at the Wurtemburger-Hof. Evening. Podbury at the piano; Bob Prendergast and his sister Hypatia seated near him.
Podb. (chanting dolefully)—
Now then, this party as what came from Fla-an-ders,
What had the com-plex-i-on rich and rare,
He went and took and caught the yaller ja-un-ders—
And his complexion isn't what it were!
Mr. and Miss Prendergast (joining sympathetically in chorus). And his complexion isn't what it were!
[There is a faint knock at the door, and Culchard enters with a volume under his arm. None of the three observe him, and he stands and listens stiffly as Podbury continues,—
Well, next this party as what came from Fla-an-ders,
Whose complex-shun was formi-ally rare,
Eloped to Injia with Eliza Sa-aun-ders,
As lived close by in Canonbury Square.