BEATIE.

Don't be a silly boy--of course you could.

CIS.

Then I shall; and when I feel inclined to have a spree, I shall think of that paper and say, "Cis Farringdon, if you ever get locked up, you'll lose the most beautiful girl in the world."

BEATIE.

And so you will.

[_He goes to the writing-table._

CIS.

I'd better write it now, before my head gets well again.

[_He writes; she bends over him._

BEATIE.

You simple, foolish, Cis! If your head is so queer, shall I tell you what to say?

_POPHAM enters, carrying a tray with breakfast dishes._

POPHAM.

[_To herself._] He won't think so much of _her_ now. His breakfast is my triumph. [_To CIS._] Coffee, bacon, and a teacake.

BEATIE.

Hush! Master Farringdon is writing something very important.

POPHAM.

[_Going to the window._] That's a cab at our door.

CIS.

It must be the mater--I'm off!

[_He picks up his boots and goes out quickly._

BEATIE.

[_Following him with the paper and inkstand._] Cis! Cis! You haven't finished the promise! You haven't finished the promise!

LUGG.

[_Heard outside._] All right, sir--I've got you--I've got you.

[_POPHAM opens the door._

POPHAM.

The master and a policeman! [_LUGG enters supporting MR. POSKET who sinks into an armchair with a groan._] Oh, what's the matter?

LUGG.

All right, my good girl, you run downstairs and fetch a drop of brandy and water.

MR. POSKET.

[_Hurrying out._] Oh!

LUGG.

Now don't take on so, sir. It's what might happen to any married gentleman. Now, you're all right now, sir. And I'll hurry back to the Court to see whether they've sent for Mr. Bullamy.

MR. POSKET.

My wife! My wife!

LUGG.

Oh, come now, sir, what _is_ seven days! Why many a married gentleman in your position, sir, would have been glad to have made it fourteen.

MR. POSKET.

Go away--leave me.

LUGG.

Certainly, sir. [_POPHAM re-enters with a small tumbler of brandy and water; he takes it from her and drinks it._] It's not wanted. I'm thankful to say he's better.

POPHAM.

[_To LUGG._] If you please, cook presents her compliments, and she would be glad of the pleasure of your company downstairs, before leavin'.

[_They go out._

MR. POSKET.

Agatha and Lukyn! Agatha and Lukyn supping together at the Hotel des Princes, while I was at home and asleep--while I ought to have been at home and asleep! It's awful!

CIS.

[_Looking in at the door and entering._] Hallo, Guv!