[CULCHARD catches up a blanket which is trailing, and says bad words under his breath.
At the Tomb of Juliet.
Culch. (who is gradually recovering his equanimity). Think of it! the actual spot on which Romeo and Juliet—SHAKSPEARE's Juliet—drew their last breath! Does it not realise the tragedy for you?
Miss T. Well, no—it's a disappointing tomb. I reckoned it would look less like a horse-trough. I should have expected Juliet's Poppa and Momma would want, considering all the facts of the case, to throw more style into her monument!
Culch. (languidly). May not its very simplicity—er—attest the sincerity of their remorse?
Miss T. Do you attach any particular meaning to that observation now? (CULCHARD bites his lip.) I notice this tomb is full of visiting cards—my! but ain't that curious?
Culch. (instructively). It only shows that this place is not without its pathos and interest for most visitors, no matter what their nationality may be. You don't feel inclined yourself to—?
Miss T. To leave a pasteboard? Why I shouldn't sleep any all night, for fear she'd return my call!
Culch. (producing a note-book). It's fanciful, perhaps but, if you don't mind waiting a little, I should like to contribute—not my card, but a sonnet. I feel one on its way.
Bob P. Better make sure the tomb's genuine first, hadn't you? Some say it isn't.