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.
FRAYNE.
[_To_ QUEX.] Who's that gal? what's her name?
QUEX.
Fullgarney; a protegee of the Edens. Her father was bailiff to old Mr.
Eden, at their place in Norfolk.
FRAYNE.
Rather alluring--eh, what?
QUEX.
[_Wincing._] Don't, Chick!
FRAYNE.
My dear Harry, it is perfectly proper, now that you are affianced to Miss Eden, and have reformed all that sort of thing--it is perfectly proper that you should no longer observe pretty women too narrowly.
QUEX.
Obviously.
FRAYNE.
But do bear in mind that your old friend is not so pledged. Recollect that _I_ have been stuck for the last eight years, with intervals of leave, on the West Coast of Africa, nursing malaria--
QUEX
[_Severely._] Only malaria?
FRAYNE.
[_Mournfully._] There is nothing else to nurse, dear Harry, on the West Coast of Africa. [_Glancing at_ SOPHY.] Yes, by gad, that gal is alluring!
QUEX.
[_Walking away._] Tss.h.!.+ you're a bad companion, Chick!
[_He goes to the window and looks into the street._ FRAYNE _joins him._ SOPHY, _seizing her opportunity comes down to_ POLLITT.
SOPHY.
[_To_ POLLITT.] Valma dear, you see that man?
POLLITT.
Which of the two?
SOPHY.
The dark one. That's Lord Quex--the wickedest man in London.
POLLITT.
He looks it. [_Jealously._] Have you ever cut his nails?
SOPHY.
No, love, no. Oh, I've heard such tales about him!
POLLITT.
What tales?
SOPHY.
I'll tell you, [_demurely_] when we're married. And the worst of it is, he is engaged to Miss Eden.
POLLITT.
Who is she?
SOPHY.
Miss Muriel Eden, my foster-sister; the dearest friend I have in the world--except you, sweetheart. It was Muriel and her brother Jack who put me into this business. And now my darling is to be sacrificed to that gay old thing--!
[_The door-gong sounds;_ QUEX _turns expectantly._
POLLITT.
If Miss Eden is your foster-sister--
SOPHY.
Yes, of course, she's six-and-twenty. But the poor girl has been worried into it by her sister-in-law, Mrs. Jack, whose one idea is t.i.tle and Position. t.i.tle and Position with that old rake by her side!
MISS LIMBIRD _enters, preceding_ CAPTAIN BASTLING--_a smart, soldierly-looking man of about eight-and-twenty._ MISS LIMBIRD _returns to her seat at the desk._
SOPHY.
[_Seeing_ BASTLING.] My gracious!
POLLITT.
What's the matter?
