Nor. To the gilt.
Phil. You had a lucky escape.
Nor. Luckier than I thought: for I discovered afterwards that the charming creature was a regular adventuress—a garrison hack—a boarding-house belle—the sole support of an aged father—a venerable old gentleman, with the manners of a patriarch and the morals of a welsher! She was a charming woman, for all that.
Phil. I congratulate you on your escape. But who was the unfortunate calf?
Nor. I never took the trouble to inquire.
Bea. (advancing—all start slightly as before) And the charming creature? Pray, who was she? (C.R. of Philip)
Nor. (rises) Miss Challoner!
Phil. (proudly—introducing Beatrice) My wife. (Normantower bows) You know one another.
Bea. (with perfect self-possession) I believe, now that I see Lord Normantower, I once had the pleasure of meeting him. (crosses to Normantower) Let me see—where was it?