Culch. (in a tone of emphatic disapproval). You must really excuse me, as I fear I should be scarcely a congenial spirit in such a party. So good night—or, rather—er—good-bye. [He withdraws.
Miss Hypatia P. (just as C. is about to close the door). Please don't stop, Mr. PODBURY, that song is quite too deliciously inane!
[CULCHARD turns as he hears the voice, and—too late—recognises his Athene of that afternoon. He retires in confusion, and, as he passes under the window, hears PODBURY sing the final verse.
The moral is—Now don't you come from Fla-an-ders,
If you should have complexions rich and rare;
And don't you go and catch the yaller ja-aun-ders,
Nor yet know girls in Canonbury Square!
Miss Hypatia P. (in a clear soprano). "Nor yet know girls in Canonbury Square!"
[CULCHARD passes on, crushed.