LADY SIMS. Going already? You have been very quick.
SIR HARRY. The person doesn't suit, Emmy.
LADY SIMS. I'm sorry.
KATE. So am I, madam, but it can't be helped. Good-by, your ladyship—good-by, Sir Harry.
[There is a suspicion of an impertinent courtesy, and she is escorted off the premises by Tombes. The air of the room is purified by her going. Sir Harry notices it at once.
LADY SIMS. [Whose tendency is to say the wrong thing.] She seemed such a capable woman.
SIR HARRY. [On his hearth.] I don't like her style at all.
LADY SIMS. [Meekly.] Of course you know best.
[This is the right kind of woman.
SIR HARRY. [Rather anxious for corroboration.] Lord, how she winced when I said I was to give you those ropes of pearls.