THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.
No. II.
SCENE—Courtyard of the "Grand Hôtel du Lion Belgique et d'Albion," at Brussels. It is just after Table d'hôte; PODBURY and CULCHARD are sitting on a covered terrace, with coffee.
Podbury (producing a pipe). Not such a bad dinner! Expect they'll rook us a lot for it, though. Rather fun, seeing the waiters all troop in with a fresh course, when the proprietor rang his bell. Like a ballet at the Empire—eh?
Culchard (selecting a cigarette). I'm not in a position to say. I don't affect those places of entertainment myself.
Podb. Oh! Where do you turn in when you want to kick up your heels a bit? Madame Tussaud's? I say, why on earth didn't you talk to that old bloke next to you at dinner? He was trying all he knew to be friendly.
Culch. Was he? I daresay. But I rather understood we came out with the idea of keeping out of all that.
Podb. Of course. I'm not keen about getting to know people. He had no end of a pretty daughter, though. Mean to say you didn't spot her?
