Podb. So I am. She's in the Church with BOB, so I said I'd come out and keep an eye on the gondola. Nothing much to see in there, you know!
Culch. (with a weary irony). Only the mausoleums of the Doges—RUSKIN's "Street of the Tombs"—and a few trifles of that sort!
Podb. That's all. And I'm feeling a bit done, you know. Been doing the Correr Museum all the morning, and not lunched yet! So Miss TROTTER's looking at ornamental metal-work? Rather fun that, eh?
Culch. For those who enjoy it. She has only been in there an hour, so she is not likely to come back just yet. What do you say to coming into S.S. Giovanni e Paolo again, with me? Those tombs form a really remarkable illustration, as RUSKIN points out, of the gradual decay of—
Miss Trotter (suddenly flutters up, followed by an attendant carrying a studded halberd, an antique gondola-hook, and two copper water-buckets—all of which are consigned to the disgusted CULCHARD). Just hold these a spell till I come back. Thanks ever so much.... Well, Mr. PODBURY! Aren't you going to admire my purchases? They're real antique—or if they aren't, they'll wear all the better.... There, I believe I'll just have to run back a minute—don't you put those things in the gondola yet, Mr. CULCHARD, or they'll get stolen.
[She flutters off.
Culch. (helplessly, as he holds the halberd, &c.). I suppose I shall have to stay here now. You're not going?
Podb. (consulting his watch). Must. Promised old BOB I'd relieve guard in ten minutes. Ta-ta!
[He goes; presently BOB PRENDERGAST lounges out of the church.