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WYKE.
[_Grinning behind his hand._] The cab is coming, ma'am.
AGATHA POSKET.
Coming? Why didn't you bring it with you?
WYKE.
I walk quicker than the cab, ma'am. It's a good horse, slow, but very certain.
AGATHA POSKET.
We will come down.
WYKE.
[_To himself._] Just what the horse has done. [_To AGATHA POSKET._]
Yes, ma'am.
[_WYKE goes out._
AGATHA POSKET.
Good-night, aeneas.
MR. POSKET.
[_Nervously._] I wish you would allow me to go to the club, my pet.
AGATHA POSKET.
aeneas, I am surprised at your obstinacy. It is so very different from my first husband.
MR. POSKET.
Really, Agatha, I am shocked. I presume the late Mr. Farringdon occasionally used his clubs.
AGATHA POSKET.
Indian clubs. Indian clubs are good for the liver, London clubs are not. Good-night!
MR. POSKET.
I'll see you to your cab, Agatha.
AGATHA POSKET.
No, thank you.
MR. POSKET.
Upon my word!
CHARLOTTE.
[_To AGATHA POSKET._] Why not?
AGATHA POSKET.
He would want to give the direction to the cabman!
CHARLOTTE.
The first tiff. [_To MR. POSKET._] Good-night, Mr. Posket.
MR. POSKET.
Good-night, Miss Verrinder.
AGATHA POSKET.
[_To MR. POSKET._] Have you any message for Lady Jenkins?
MR. POSKET.
Confound Lady Jenkins.
AGATHA POSKET.
I will deliver your message in the presence of Sir George, who, I may remind you, is the permanent Secretary at the Home Office.
[_AGATHA POSKET and CHARLOTTE go out; MR. POSKET paces up and down excitedly._
MR. POSKET.
Gurrh? I'm not to go to the club! I set a bad example to Cis! Ha! ha!
I am different from her first husband. Yes, I am--I'm alive for one thing. I--I--I--I--I'm dashed if I don't go out with the boy.
CIS.
[_Putting his head in at the door._] Coast clear, Guv? All right.
_Enter CIS, in fas.h.i.+onable evening dress, carrying MR. POSKET'S overcoat and hat._
CIS.
Here are your hat and overcoat.
