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Page 99
[_Opening the door a few inches._] Miss Eden, I regret to learn you are
suffering from headache.
SOPHY.
[_Indignantly._] Well, of all the liberties--!
QUEX.
[_Angrily._] Frayne!
FRAYNE.
May I tell you of an unfailing remedy--? [_He peeps into the private
room, then withdraws his head, and says to_ QUEX.] No.
SOPHY.
[_Flouncing up to_ FRAYNE, _and speaking volubly and violently._] Now,
look here, sir, I'm a busy woman--as busy and as hard-working a woman as
any in London. Because you see things a bit slack Ascot week, it doesn't
follow that my books, and a hundred little matters, don't want attending
to. [_Sitting at the desk and opening and closing the books noisily._]
And I'm certainly not going to have gentlemen, whoever they may be,
marching into my place, and taking possession of it, and doubting my
word, and opening and shutting doors, exactly as if they were staying in
a common hotel. I'd have you to know that my establishment isn't
conducted on _that_ principle.
[QUEX _has been standing, with compressed lips and a frown upon his
face, leaning upon the back of the chair near the circular table.
During_ SOPHY'S _harangue his eyes fall upon the jeweller's case and the
scrap of paper lying open upon it. He stares at the writing for a
moment, then comes to the table and picks up both the case and the
paper._
FRAYNE.
[_To_ SOPHY, _while this is going on._] My good lady, a little candour
on your part--
SOPHY.
I don't understand what you're hinting at by "a little candour." You've
already been told where Miss Eden is, and anybody who knows me knows
that if I say a thing--
FRAYNE.
But when your young ladies declare--
SOPHY.
I'm really not responsible for the sayings and doings of a parcel of
stupid girls. If they didn't see Miss Eden go out they were asleep, and
if they weren't asleep they're blind; and as I've explained till I'm
hoarse, I'm very busy this morning, and I should be extremely obliged to
you two gentlemen if you'd kindly go away and call again a little later.
QUEX.
Chick.
FRAYNE.
Eh?
QUEX.
I want you.
[FRAYNE _comes to_ QUEX, _who hands him the jeweller's case and the slip
of paper._
SOPHY.
[_Fussing over her books, oblivious of what is transpiring._] As if the
difficulty of conducting a business of this kind isn't sufficient
without extra bothers and worries being brought down on one's head! What
with one's enormous rent, and rotten debts, it's heartbreaking! Here's a
woman here, on my books, who runs an account for fifteen months, with
the face of an angel, and no more intends to pay me than to jump over
St. Paul's--
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