WOFF. La, sir! how pretty!
POM. Let me show how poor its lustre is to that of your eyes (he tries to draw back her hood).
WOFF. Oh, sir—hark! (she suddenly starts away and listens in an attitude of alarm).
POM. Ah! (noise without). Footsteps on the stairs! (goes to door and opens it, listening).
VANE (without). Another flight!
POM. Ha! Vane’s voice, by all that’s mal-à-propos; (Woffington screams and rushes into inner apartment) and now for Monsieur le mari (Triplet appears at the door leading to the staircase, with his back to the stage and speaking off).
TRIP. Have a care, sir! There is a hiatus in the fourth step—and now for the friend who waits to forget grief and suspicion in your arms—that friend is——
[Enter Vane—Triplet turns round and recognizes Pomander.]
The Devil!
POM. You flatter me!