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Page 19
[_Coldly._] Shall I cut your nails?
FRAYNE.
[_Wofully._] That's it, dear young lady--you can't!
MISS CLARIDGE.
[_With hauteur._] Reely! Why not, sir?
FRAYNE.
I regret to say I bite 'em.
[_He goes out_. MISS CLARIDGE _titters loudly to_ MISS LIMBIRD.
SOPHY.
[_To_ MISS CLARIDGE, _reprovingly._] Miss Claridge! I don't require you
at present.
[MISS CLARIDGE _withdraws._
SOPHY.
[_Going to_ MISS LIMBIRD.] Miss Limbird, will _you_ oblige me? hot
water, please.
[MISS LIMBIRD _goes out. At once_ SOPHY _gives a signal to_ BASTLING
_and_ MURIEL, _and keeps guard._ BASTLING _and_ MURIEL _talk in low,
hurried tones._
BASTLING.
[_On the right of the circular table._] How are you?
MURIEL.
[_On the other side, giving him her hand across the table._] I don't
know. [_Withdrawing her hand._] I hate myself!
BASTLING.
Hate yourself?
MURIEL.
For this sort of thing. [_Glancing round apprehensively._] Oh!
BASTLING.
Don't be frightened. Sophy's there.
MURIEL.
I'm nervous--shaky. When I wrote to you last night I thought I should be
able to sneak up to town this morning only with a maid. And you've met
Quex too!
BASTLING.
None of them suspect--?
MURIEL.
No. Oh, but go now!
BASTLING.
Already! May I not sit and watch you?
MURIEL.
Not to-day.
BASTLING.
You must hear my news, then, from Sophy; she'll tell you--
MURIEL.
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