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ROOPE.
[_Testily._] That was her mood last June, when she was hypped and discontented. With a husband she can be proud of, surely----!
PHILIP.
[_Coming forward._] As a matter of fact, Robbie, I'm inclined to agree with you; I've been staring into my fire, or out of my windows here, a jolly sight too much. [_Expanding his chest._] It'll be refres.h.i.+ng to me to rub shoulders with people again for a bit--[_smiling_] even to find myself the object of a little interest and curiosity.
ROOPE.
[_Delighted._] Dear excellent friend!
PHILIP.
Ha, ha! You see, I'm not without my share of petty vanity. I'm consistent, though. Didn't I tell you in South Audley Street that I was as eager for fame as any man living, if only I could win it in my own way?
ROOPE.
You did.
PHILIP.
[_Exultingly._] Well, I _have_ won it in my own way, haven't I!
[_Hitting the palm of his hand with his fist._] I've done what I determined to do, Robbie; what I knew I _should_ do, sooner or later!
I've _got there_--got there!--by simple, honest means! Isn't it glorious?
ROOPE.
[_Cautiously._] I admit----
PHILIP.
[_Breaking in._] Oh, I don't pretend that there haven't been moments in my years of stress and struggle when I've been tempted to join the gaudy, cackling fowl whose feathers I flatter myself I've plucked pretty thoroughly in my book! But I've resisted the devil by prayers and fasting; and, by George, sir, I wouldn't swap my modest victory for the vogue of the biggest boomster in England! [_Boisterously._] Ha, ha, ha! Whoop! [_Seizing_ ROOPE _and shaking him._] Dare to preach your gospel to me _now_, you arch-apostle of quackery and self-advertis.e.m.e.nt!
ROOPE.
[_Peevishly, releasing himself._] Upon my word, Phil----!
[_The bell rings again._
PHILIP.
The cook! [_To_ ROOPE, _seeing that he is putting on his m.u.f.fler._]
Don't go.
ROOPE.
I must. [_Taking up his overcoat._] I merely ran along to shake hands with you, and I'm sorry I took the trouble. [PHILIP _helps him into his overcoat laughingly._] Thanks.
PHILIP.
[_Suddenly._] Robbie----!
ROOPE.
[_Struggling with an obstinate sleeve._] Hey?
PHILIP.
It's just struck me. Where are _you_ dining to-night?
ROOPE.
At the Garrick, with Hughie Champion. [_Picking up his hat and gloves._] He's getting horribly deaf and tedious; but I had nothing better.
PHILIP.
Bother Colonel Champion! I wish you could have dined with _me_.
ROOPE.
[_His hat on his head, drawing on his gloves._] Dear excellent _friend_! I should be out of place.
PHILIP.
Rubbis.h.!.+ Your presence would be peculiarly appropriate, my dear Robbie.
Wasn't it you who brought Ottoline and me together, G.o.d bless yer!
[_Observing that_ ROOPE _is weakening._] There's heaps of room for an extra chair. Everybody 'ud be delighted.
ROOPE.
[_Meditatively._] I could telephone to Hughie excusing myself. He didn't ask me till this afternoon. [_With an injured air._] I resent a short notice.
PHILIP.
[_His eyes twinkling._] Quite right. Mine's short too----
ROOPE.
That's different.
PHILIP.
Entirely. You'll come?
ROOPE.
If you're certain the Filsons and Madame de Chaumie----
PHILIP.
