[_To GABRIELLE and DE CASTRO._] Ah, Miss Kato; ah, Sam! A pleasant party, eh?

DE CASTRO.

[_Shortly._] Yeth. [_STIDULPH goes out at the right-hand door at the back. DE CASTRO crosses to the left and then turns to GABRIELLE._] Dam pleathant party!

GABRIELLE.

[_Dolefully._] Well, don't make a scene.

DE CASTRO.

Thene! _I'm_ not makin' a thene. Walkin' away from me in the middle of a danthe and leavin' me thtandin' thtarin' after you like a detherted child! _You're_ makin' the thene!

GABRIELLE.

I'm very sorry.

DE CASTRO.

I'm jutht ath good a waltzther ath anyone here, and better than motht.

[_Waving his arms._] If you're tired of me, announthe the fact quietly. Don't go and wipe your bootth on me in public, becauthe that hurtth my pride.

GABRIELLE.

[_With a little twist of her body._] I can't do more than apologise.

First time I've ever done _that_ to a man.

DE CASTRO.

[_Coming to her, mollified._] I don't athk it, Gabth; I don't athk it.

All I athk----

GABRIELLE.

[_Sitting on the nearer settee in the centre._] If I'm rude, it's owing to my low spirits. I'm so shockingly low-spirited.

DE CASTRO.

I know you are, and I make allowanthes for yer. I repeat, all I athk----

GABRIELLE.

[_Gazing at vacancy._] Mine's a strange nature. _On_ the stage, I'm liveliness itself----!

DE CASTRO.

A perfect little lump o' talent! I've been tellin' Carlton tho-- perthuadin' him to introduthe an extra thong for you in Act Two.

GABRIELLE.

[_Looking at DE CASTRO._] You have?

DE CASTRO.

Yeth.

GABRIELLE.

Did he promise to think it over?

DE CASTRO.

Hith exthact wordth!

GABRIELLE.

[_With a hollow laugh._] Ha, ha, ha! [_Resuming her former att.i.tude._]

As I was remarking, I'm a ma.s.s of inconsistency. _On_ the stage the embodiment of elfish fun----

DE CASTRO.

That wath in the _Mail_.

GABRIELLE.

[_Nodding._] In the _Mail_. _Off_ the stage, I'm a sufferer from what's called the artistic temperature-- no-- temperament----

DE CASTRO.

[_Uncomfortably, patting her shoulder._] Po' little girl; po' little girl!

GABRIELLE.

[_Her melancholy increasing._] Sometimes I've an idea that if I had a motor-car of my _own_ I should feel easier and happier.

DE CASTRO.

[_With a change of tone._] What d'ye mean-- motor-car of yer own?

Mine'th alwayth at your dithpothal, ithn't it?

GABRIELLE.

[_Shaking her head._] That's not the same thing. Whenever I have yours out, I'm weighed down by a sense of borrowing.

DE CASTRO.

Well, if I gave you a new car, you'd be weighed down by a thenthe of my havin' paid for it.

GABRIELLE.