Second P. P. Yes—or mackerel. But (tolerantly) I suppose it's a fancy subject.
[They consider that this absolves them from taking any further interest in it, and pass on.
In Gallery No. XI.
An Old Lady (who judges Art from a purely Moral Standpoint, halts approvingly before a picture of a female orphan). Now, that really is a nice picture, my dear—a plain black dress and white cuffs—justwhat I like to see in a young person!
The S. L. (her enthusiasm greatly on the wane, and her temper slightly affected). Lucy, I wish you wouldn't worry so—it's quite impossible to stop and look at everything. If you wanted your tea as badly as I do! Mark that one? What, when they neither of them have a single thing on! Never, Lucy,—and I'm surprised at your suggesting it! Oh, you meant the next one? h'm—no, I can't say I care for it. Well, if I do mark it, I shall only put a tick—for it really is not worth a cross!
Coming Out.
The Man who always makes the Right Remark. H'm. Haven't seen anything I could carry away with me.
His Flippant Friend. Too many people about, eh? Never mind, old chap, you may manage to sneak an umbrella down-stairs—I won't say anything!
[Disgust of his companion, who descends stairs in offended silence, as scene closes.