Well, the filly’s kicking. Have to put a red ribbon on her tail, don’t you know.
Lady Wanley.
She’s refusing the coronet you lay at her feet?
Serlo.
Won’t touch it with the fag end of a barge pole. I was sittin’ next to her at lunch, and she simply turned her back on me—no mistakin’ it, don’t you know. Wouldn’t let me get a word in edgeways. Mother’s all over me, father’s all over me, son’s all over me. What’s the good of that? Can’t marry them. Rotten, I call it. Came over here to have a bit of a rest.
Lady Wanley.
[Laughing.] And how d’you like Vincent?
Serlo.
Rotten bounder. Can’t stick him at any price, knows too many lords for me. When he’s my brother-in-law—hoof him out, don’t you know—double quick march. Pretty Polly’s all very well but I’m not takin’ her family. Can’t do it for half a million, don’t you know. Must be practical.
[Vincent comes up to them.