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Page 17
FRAYNE.
[_Following him._] Talking of--ah--mistresses I suppose you've--?
QUEX.
Oh, yes, they're all--
FRAYNE.
Made happy and comfortable?
QUEX.
I've done my utmost.
FRAYNE.
Mrs.--?
QUEX.
[_Rather irritably._] I say, all of them.
FRAYNE.
No trouble with Lady--?
QUEX.
No, no, no, no.
FRAYNE.
What about the little Duchess? [QUEX _pauses in his examination of a
nail-clipper._] Eh?
QUEX.
[_Turning to him, slightly embarrassed._] Odd that you should mention
her.
FRAYNE.
Why?
QUEX.
She's staying at Fauncey Court also.
FRAYNE.
The Duchess!
QUEX.
She proposed herself for a visit. I dared not raise any objection, for
her reputation's sake; the ladies would have suspected at once. You're
one of the few, Chick, who ever got an inkling of that business.
FRAYNE.
Very awkward!
QUEX.
No. She's behaving admirably. [_Thoughtfully--with a wry face._] Of
course she was always a little romantic and sentimental.
FRAYNE.
By gad though, what an alluring woman!
QUEX.
[_Shortly._] Perhaps.
FRAYNE.
Ho, come! you don't mean to tell me--?
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