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Ha, ha!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
I saw your brother on that one fatal night. Common person that he is, he must have a heart under his vulgar waistcoat.
MRS. GAYl.u.s.tRE.
Be careful! Don't insult my Jo!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
I compliment him! I will appeal to him to protect me from your claws, Gayl.u.s.tre!
MRS. GAYl.u.s.tRE.
Oh, you will, will you?
LADY TWOMBLEY.
I will.
MRS. GAYl.u.s.tRE.
Very well then--do it! Kate Twombley, go to that door and call my brother Jo!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
What!
MRS. GAYl.u.s.tRE.
Do it!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
What--do you--mean?
MRS. GAYl.u.s.tRE.
Open that door and call Jo!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
No, no! [She opens the door and looks out.] You are only frightening me!
MRS. GAYl.u.s.tRE.
Call--Mr. Lebanon!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
Mr. Lebanon!
MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.
[Outside.] Heah!
[LADY TWOMBLEY utters a cry of horror as MR. JOSEPH LEBANON enters--a smartly dressed, unctuous, middle-aged person, of a most p.r.o.nounced common Semitic type, with a bland manner and a contented smile.]
MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.
Lady Twombley, delighted to find myself in your elegant 'ouse. Most _recherche_.
LADY TWOMBLEY.
How do you come here?
MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.
Fan brought me.
LADY TWOMBLEY.
How dare she?
MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.
'Ow dare she? H'm! Fan, I 'ope and trust not a coolness between you and Lady T.
[LADY TWOMBLEY sinks into a chair.]
MRS. GAYl.u.s.tRE.
She was dying to see you--there's no pleasing her.
MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.
Dyin' to see me! Flattered--flattered. [He sits in close proximity to LADY TWOMBLEY.] Deah Lady T, you and I and n.o.body by, eh? Excuse my humour. 'Ow can I 'ave the honour of servin' you? Don't 'esitate, Lady T, don't 'esitate.
LADY TWOMBLEY.
I only wanted--to beg you--to rid me of that viper.
MRS. GAYl.u.s.tRE.
That's going a little too far!
MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.
