Spurr. Me? Write a book—about cutlets—or anything else! Emma, you don't suppose I've quite come to that! Andromeda's the name of my bull-dog. I took first prize with her; there were portraits of both of us in one of the papers. And the people here were very much taken with the dog, and—and so they asked me to dine with them. That's how it was.
Phill. I should have thought, if they asked one of you to dine, it ought to have been the bull-dog.
Spurr. Now what's the good of saying extravagant things of that sort? Not that old Drummy couldn't be trusted to behave anywhere!
Phill. Better than her master, I daresay. I heard of your goings on with some Lady Rhoda or other!
Spurr. Oh, the girl I sat next to at dinner? Nice chatty sort of girl; seems fond of quadrupeds——
Phill. Especially two-legged ones! You see I've been told all about it!
Spurr. I assure you I didn't go a step beyond the most ordinary civility. You're not going to be jealous because I promised I'd give her a liniment for one of her dogs, are you?
Phill. Liniment! You always were a flirt, James! But I'm not jealous. I've met a very nice-spoken young man while I've been here; he sat next to me at supper, and paid me the most beautiful compliments, and was most polite and attentive—though he hasn't got as far as liniment, at present.
Spurr. But, Emma, you're not going to take up with some other fellow just when we've come together again?
Phill. If you call it "coming together," when I'm down in the Housekeeper's Room, and you're up above, carrying on with ladies of title!