ANN. [Pouring out the rum, and handing him the glass.] Well, who was it?
WELLWYN. He didn't beg of me. [Losing himself in recollection.]
Interesting old creature, Ann—real type. Old cabman.
ANN. Where?
WELLWYN. Just on the Embankment.
ANN. Of course! Daddy, you know the Embankment ones are always rotters.
WELLWYN. Yes, my dear; but this wasn't.
ANN. Did you give him your card?
WELLWYN. I—I—don't
ANN. Did you, Daddy?
WELLWYN. I'm rather afraid I may have!