The Gay Lord Quex by Arthur W. Pinero


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Page 10

QUEX.

[_Perceiving_ SOPHY _and approaching her._] How are you, Miss
Fullgarney?

SOPHY.

[_Respectfully, but icily._] Oh, how do you do, my lord?

[MISS CLARIDGE _withdraws._ FRAYNE _comes forward, eyeing_ SOPHY _with
interest._

QUEX.

My aunt--Lady Owbridge--has asked me to meet her here at two o'clock.
Her ladyship is lunching at a tea-shop close by--bunning is a more
fitting expression--with Mrs. Eden and Miss Eden.

SOPHY.

[_Gladly._] Miss Muriel!

QUEX.

Yes, I believe Miss Muriel will place her pretty finger-tips in your
charge, [_partly to_ FRAYNE] while I escort Lady Owbridge and Mrs. Jack
to view this new biblical picture--[_with a gesture_] a few doors up.
What is the subject?--Moses in the Bulrushes. [_To_ FRAYNE.] Come with
us, Chick.

SOPHY.

It's not quite two, my lord; if you like, you've just time to run in
next door and have your palm read.

QUEX.

My palm--?

SOPHY.

By this extraordinary palmist everybody is talking about--Valma.

QUEX.

[_Pleasantly._] One of these fortune-telling fellows, eh? [_Shaking his
head._] I prefer the gipsy on Epsom race-course.

SOPHY.

[_Under her breath._] Oh, indeed! [_Curtly._] Please take a seat.

[_She flounces up to the desk and busies herself there vindictively._

FRAYNE.

[_To_ QUEX.] Who's that gal? what's her name?

QUEX.

Fullgarney; a prot�g�e 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.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Thu 6th Feb 2025, 15:23