The Gay Lord Quex - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
Perhaps you imagine--?
MURIEL.
Be quiet, Sophy!
SOPHY.
[_Giving a sniff and lowering her voice._] Well, here they were, standing exactly where you are, close to each other. [MURIEL _changes her position._] I saw her touch his arm. Oh, I'm positive there's something between those two! "You will?" I heard her say. And then he made a remark about Friday--Friday--
MURIEL.
The d.u.c.h.ess goes on Friday.
SOPHY.
That was it, of course! And then she mumbled something I couldn't catch; and then--listen to this!--then she said "to-night," quite plainly.
_To-night!_ and in such a tone of voice! And then he bowed, and out she came with "to-night" again--"to-night," for the second time--and away she went. Now, what do you think that "to-night" of hers means?
MURIEL.
[_Coldly, seating herself upon the bench._] Nothing--anything.
SOPHY.
Nothing!
MURIEL.
A hundred topics of conversation would lead to such an expression.
[_Looking at_ SOPHY _steadily._] You are mistaken in the construction you put upon it.
SOPHY.
[_Quietly._] Mistaken, am I?
MURIEL.
[_With clenched hands._] The d.u.c.h.ess of Strood is a most immaculate woman. [_Suddenly._] Oh, it would be too infamous!
[_The_ d.u.c.h.eSS _and_ FRAYNE, _followed by_ MRS. EDEN, _reappear behind the low hedge._ SOPHY _retreats to the back of the bench upon which_ MURIEL _is sitting. The_ d.u.c.h.eSS _and_ FRAYNE _approach, talking, while_ MRS. EDEN _chats to_ SOPHY _across the hedge._
FRAYNE.
[_To the_ d.u.c.h.eSS, _gallantly._] I am flattered by your remembrance of me, d.u.c.h.ess. When we last met I had hardly a grey hair in my head.
[_Running his hand through his hair._] Ha! The West Coast--!
d.u.c.h.eSS.
Is the climate so terrible?
FRAYNE.
Deadly. But the worst of it is, [_with a bow and a sigh_] we have no European ladies.
[MURIEL--_eyeing the_ d.u.c.h.eSS--_rises, shrinkingly, and steals away._
FRAYNE.
[_Looking after_ MURIEL.] Quex! ha, there's a lucky dog, now!
d.u.c.h.eSS.
[_Sweetly._] You are delighted, naturally, at your old friend's approaching marriage?
FRAYNE.
[_Kissing his finger-tips towards the left._] Miss Eden--!
[_Inquisitively._] And--and _you_, d.u.c.h.ess?
d.u.c.h.eSS.
[_Raising her eyebrows._] I?
FRAYNE.
You also approve his choice?
d.u.c.h.eSS.
[_Blandly._] Approve? I am scarcely sufficiently intimate with either party to express approval or disapproval.
FRAYNE.
[_Eyeing her askance._] Pardon. I thought you had known Quex for--ah--some years.
d.u.c.h.eSS.
Quite superficially. I should describe him rather as a great friend of his Grace.
LADY OWBRIDGE _appears on the top of the steps._
LADY OWBRIDGE.
Are you here, d.u.c.h.ess?
d.u.c.h.eSS.
[_Turning to her._] Yes.
