Mr. Toov. (recoiling in consternation). I? I drop into a music-hall? Oh, I couldn't, indeed! Why, I never was in such a place in all my life. And if anybody were to see me there!
Curph. You need not be seen at all. There are private boxes where no one would notice you, I could easily get them to send you one, if you like.
Mr. Toov. (to himself). What a power the Press is, to be sure! I remember Charles said that newspaper writers could get seats for everything. (Aloud.) Really, I hardly know what to say; it's so very contrary to all my habits, and then—to go alone. Now if you would only accompany me——
Curph. You forget, Sir, that's quite impossible. I can't come in the box with you!
Mr. Toov. (to himself). There it is—it's against his principles to go himself, and yet he expects me to! (Aloud, peevishly.) Then why are you so anxious to have me go, eh?
Curph. Why? Because there are Mrs. Toovey's prejudices to be considered, and I'm anxious that you should be in a position to assure her from your own personal experience that——
Mr. Toov. Oh, my dear young friend, if I did go, I don't think I could ever mention such an experience as that to Mrs. Toovey. She—she might fail to understand that I merely went for the satisfaction of my own conscience.
Curph. She might, of course. So long as you satisfy yourself, then. And—what night will suit you best?
Mr. Toov. You're in such a hurry, young man. I—I never said I should go. I'm not at all sure that I can go; but if I did allow myself to venture, it would have to be some evening when my wife—let me see, on Saturday she's going out to some special meeting of her Zenana Mission Committee, I know. It had better be Saturday, if at all—if at all.