The Gay Lord Quex by Arthur W. Pinero


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Page 86

FRAYNE.

Have you met the ladies this morning?

QUEX.

Yes--except Muriel, who didn't show at breakfast.

FRAYNE.

How did you find 'em?

QUEX.

Amiability itself; _they_ know nothing. [_Rising and looking down upon_
FRAYNE.] You see, Chick, all that Miss Fullgarney has to do--if she
hasn't already done it--is to tell a trifling taradiddle to Muriel
concerning the events of last night. Well, in effect, she has promised
to do that, hasn't she? [_Impatiently._] Eh?

FRAYNE.

[_Gloomily._] Frankly, Harry, I shouldn't be in the least surprised if
the jade sold you.

QUEX.

[_His jaw falling._] You wouldn't?

FRAYNE.

No.

QUEX.

Phew! _I_ should. [_Warmly._] By Jove, I should!

FRAYNE.

I have conceived a great aversion to her--a long, scraggy gal.

QUEX.

[_With enthusiasm._] As full of courage as a thoroughbred!

FRAYNE.

[_Closing his eyes._] I can picture her elbows; sharp, pointed
elbows--the barbed fence of the spiteful woman.

QUEX.

Pooh! yesterday she was alluring.

FRAYNE.

[_Rising painfully._] Yesterday--! [_Gravely._] Harry, do you know there
are moments when I feel that I am changing towards the sex; when I fancy
I can discern the skeleton, as it were, through the rounded cheek?

QUEX.

You!

FRAYNE.

Yes, this novel sentiment is undoubtedly gaining possession of your old
friend--gradually, perhaps, but surely.

QUEX.

[_Regarding him searchingly._] Excuse me, Chick--did you turn into the
Beefsteak when you got back from Richmond last night?

FRAYNE.

For an hour. Oh, a great mistake.

QUEX.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Thu 25th Dec 2025, 12:49