Mr. Regniati. Stoff! (Protests.) My Jo! I do not stoff! (Unhappily.) I 'ave no-sing in . . .
Madame (ascetically). A little abstinence will do you good. Come.
Exeunt Madame, attended by the Signor. Carriage drives off.
Mrs. Orby Frimmely, whose new things came down yesterday—latest Parisian mode—the two Misses Cherton, Miss Medford, Captain Byrton, Chilvern, Cazell, are the Church party.
Mr. Orby Frimmely, having been busy in the City all the week, is what he calls “taking it out” in bed on Sunday morning. He emphatically asserts his position (a horizontal one), and with religious fervour claims Sunday as a day of rest.
Being uncertain of the weather I remain at home with Milburd.
Milburd shifts the responsibility on to my shoulders by saying, “I'll go if you'll go.”
Hesitation.
Happy Thought. Wait and see what the weather is like.
At a quarter to eleven (service is at eleven) the weather is like nothing particular.