The Gay Lord Quex - BestLightNovel.com
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QUEX.
At the end of the year; a.s.suming, of course--
FRAYNE.
That you continue to behave prettily? [QUEX _a.s.sents, with a wave of the hand._] The slightest lapse on your part--?
QUEX.
Impossible.
FRAYNE.
But it would--?
QUEX.
[_A little impatiently._] Naturally.
FRAYNE.
Well, six months pa.s.s quickly--everywhere but on the West Coast of Africa.
QUEX.
And then--you shall be my best man, Chick, if you're still home.
FRAYNE.
[_Rising._] Hah! I never thought--
QUEX.
[_Rising._] No; I who always laughed at marriage as a dull depravity permitted to the respectable cla.s.ses! I who always maintained that man's whole duty to woman--meaning his mistresses--that a man's duty to a woman is liberally discharged when he has made a settlement on her, or stuck her into his will! [_Blowing the ideas from him._] Phugh!
[_He goes to the little table, and examines the objects upon it._
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 d.u.c.h.ess? [QUEX _pauses in his examination of a nail-clipper._] Eh?
QUEX.
[_Turning to him, slightly embarra.s.sed._] Odd that you should mention her.
FRAYNE.
Why?
QUEX.
She's staying at Fauncey Court also.
FRAYNE.
The d.u.c.h.ess!
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.
