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 Title and
Position. Title 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?
QUEX.
[_Recognising_ BASTLING _and greeting him._] Hallo, Napier! how are you?
BASTLING.
[_Shaking hands with_ QUEX.] Hallo, Quex!
QUEX.
What are you doing here?
SOPHY.
[_To_ POLLITT.] Phew! I hope to goodness Lord Quex won't tumble to
anything.
POLLITT.
Tumble--to what?
[QUEX _introduces_ BASTLING _to_ FRAYNE.
SOPHY.
You don't understand; it's Captain Bastling--the man Muriel is really
fond of.
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