Mrs. Orby Frimmely appears, gentlemen and ladies crowd about her.
“Oh, charming! Such an admirable costume. You really must let me have a sketch of it.”
Mr. Muntson (an Elderly Beau, with a literary-club reputation). My dear Mrs. Frimmely, I've been saying to your husband, that the stage has positively suffered a loss in your not being . . . as they say . . . on the boards.
Mrs. Orby Frimmely (thinks that his opinion, at all events, is worth having, and says) I'm so glad you liked it.
Mr. Muntson (sees that he has created a most favourable impression and continues). It was delightful. All the vivacity of the French stage—of course you know the French stage well?—(Mrs. Frimmely nods. She has seen Schneider in “La Grande Duchesse,” and takes in a French illustrated paper)—You have—you know the expression—vous avez du chic. (Mrs. Frimmely makes a little curtsey. Elderly Mr. Muntson thinks that Mr. Frimmely is quite out of the race now that he has stept in. He goes on.) We have no actresses now—and if you went on to the stage it would simply be a triumph.
Mrs. Frimmely (gradually becoming convinced as to what her vocation in life certainly ought to be). But this little part I played to-night . . . it is nothing . . . You can't judge from that.
Muntson. I can, perfectly. I have seen—let me see—I recollect Mrs. Humby and . . .
[Here he begins to be tedious. Mrs. Frimmely wants to talk about herself, not about other people. She welcomes Boodels.
Boodels. We have to thank you—most sincerely—for the great treat you've given us.
Mr. Muntson. I've just been saying that it reminded me—