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.