Man. Eh—who's that? Ah, me! What are you doing, Madame?
Mad. V. Did you not order dinner, my lord?
Man. Certainly not.
Mad. V. Why they told me—
Man. Then they were mistaken. It's for some of the other lodgers.
Mad. V. But there's no other lodgers on this floor, and I really cannot think what—
Man. At any rate, it is not for me. Take it away.
Mad. V. [After slowly taking off cloth.] My lord has probably dined?
Man. Probably.
Mad. V. Dear me, dear me, what a pity. A good dinner spoiled, wasted. Really, if you had not dined, my lord, it would so oblige me if—