Culch. (scarlet and sulky). Of course, if Mr. Podbury descends to childishness of that sort, I can't pretend to——
Podb. (wiping his eyes). But you did pretend, old chap. You said it was "profound truth" and "masterly precision"! I've got more profound truth where that came from. I say, I shall set up as an intellectual Johnny after this, and get you to write an Epitome of me. I think I pulled your leg that time, eh?
Culch. (biting his lip). When you have extracted sufficient entertainment from that very small joke, you will perhaps allow Miss Prendergast to sit down and begin her sketch. You may not be aware that you've taken her place.
[He withdraws majestically to the parapet, while Podbury makes way for Miss P. with apologies.
Podb. (as he leans over seat while she sketches). I wish your brother Bob had been here—he would have enjoyed that!
Miss P. It was really too bad of you, though. Poor Mr. Culchard!
Podb. He shouldn't try to make me out a bigger duffer than I am, then. But I say, you don't really think it was too bad? Ah, you're laughing—you don't!
Miss P. Never mind what I really think. But you have got us both into sad disgrace. Mr. Culchard is dreadfully annoyed with us—look at his shoulders!
Culch. (leaning over parapet with his back to them). That ass Podbury! To think of his taking me in with an idiotic trick like that! And before Her too! And when I had made it all right about the other evening, and was producing an excellent impression on the way up here. I wish I could hear what they are whispering about—more silly jokes at my expense, no doubt. Bah! as if it affected me!
Podb. (to Miss P.). I say, how awfully well you draw!