Be here in a quarter of an hour.
QUEX.
May I ask--the reason?
DUCHESS.
[_A newspaper in her hand--talking to him, in undertones, over the top
of it._] For a week, only the merest commonplaces have passed between
us. I must relieve my heart; it is bursting!
QUEX.
I entreat you to consider my position.
DUCHESS.
Yours! have _I_ no reputation to endanger? [_Rising--laying the paper
aside._] What a pitiably small request! you will grant it?
QUEX.
If you could see your way to excuse me--
DUCHESS.
In memory of the past--! I demand it!
QUEX.
[_With a stiff bow._] Oh--oh, certainly.
DUCHESS.
[_Leaving him._] Thank you.
QUEX.
[_To himself._] Damn!
[_He turns on his heel and walks away._
DUCHESS.
[_Joining_ MURIEL.] You are coming to dress?
MURIEL.
[_After smiling assent, presenting_ SOPHY.] Miss Fullgarney was my first
playmate, Duchess.
DUCHESS.
[_Looking upon_ SOPHY _graciously._] Ah? [_To_ MURIEL.] The souvenirs of
childhood are sweet, are they not?
[_She slips her arm through_ MURIEL'S, _and they ascend the steps and go
away together.
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