Countess. Certainly. Why did you not show her up at once?
Servant (arranging his powdered hair in a glass). Because in cases of exposure her Grace is quite equal to showing up herself!
Countess (smiling). You are cynical, JOHN. Do you not know that cynicism is the birthright of fools, and, when discovered, is more than half found out?
Servant (taking up coal scuttle). Like the hair of your Lady-ship—out of curl! [Exit.
Countess. A quaint conceit; but here is my husband. Let me avoid him. A married man is quite out of date—save when he forms the subject of his own obituary. [Exit.
A pause. Enter the Duchess of BATTERSEA.
Duchess. Dear me! No one here! So I might have brought the Duke with me, after all! And yet he is so fond of the petticoats. He loses his head when he begins kissing his hand. And I lose my head when I fail to catch a 'buss. A kiss with him and a 'buss with me—where's the difference?
Enter Earl PENNYPLAINE.
Earl (angrily). You here!
Duchess (with an appealing gesture). You are not pleased to see me! You regard me as an adventuress! You are ashamed of my past! A past unblessed by a clergyman—in fact, a past without a pastor!