Quite--quite rippin'.

[_He moves round to the settee._ PAULA _watches him with distaste, then rises and walks away._ SIR GEORGE _falls asleep on the settee._

LADY ORREYED.

Paula love, I fancied you and Aubrey were a little more friendly at dinner. You haven't made it up, have you?

PAULA.

We? Oh, no. We speak before others, that's all.

LADY ORREYED.

And how long do you intend to carry on this game, dear?

PAULA.

[_Turning away impatiently._] I really can't tell you.

LADY ORREYED.

Sit down, old girl; don't be so fidgety. [PAULA _sits on the upper seat of the ottoman with her back to_ LADY ORREYED.] Of course, it's my duty, as an old friend, to give you a good talking-to--[PAULA _glares at her suddenly and fiercely._]--but really I've found one gets so many smacks in the face through interfering in matrimonial squabbles that I've determined to drop it.

PAULA.

I think you're wise.

LADY ORREYED.

However, I must say that I do wish you'd look at marriage in a more solemn light--just as I do, in fact. It is such a beautiful thing--marriage, and if people in our position don't respect it, and set a good example by living happily with their husbands, what can you expect from the middle cla.s.ses? When did this sad state of affairs between you and Aubrey actually begin?

PAULA.

Actually, a fortnight and three days ago; I haven't calculated the minutes.

LADY ORREYED.

A day or two before Dodo and I turned up--arrived.

PAULA.

Yes. One always remembers one thing by another; we left off speaking to each other the morning I wrote asking you to visit us.

LADY ORREYED.

Lucky for you I was able to pop down, wasn't it, dear?

PAULA.

[_Glaring at her again._] Most fortunate.

LADY ORREYED.

A serious split with your husband without a pal on the premises--I should say, without a friend in the house--would be most unpleasant.

PAULA.

[_Turning to her abruptly._] This place must be horribly doleful for you and George just now. At least you ought to consider him before me. Why don't you leave me to my difficulties?

LADY ORREYED.

Oh, we're quite comfortable, dear, thank you--both of us. George and me are so wrapped up in each other, it doesn't matter where we are.

I don't want to crow over you, old girl, but I've got a perfect husband.

[SIR GEORGE _is now fast asleep, his head thrown back and his mouth open, looking hideous._

PAULA.

[_Glancing at_ SIR GEORGE.] So you've given me to understand.

LADY ORREYED.

Not that we don't have our little differences. Why, we fell out only this very morning. You remember the diamond and ruby tiara Charley Prestwick gave poor dear Connie Tirlemont years ago, don't you?

PAULA.

No, I do not.

LADY ORREYED.

No? Well, it's in the market. Benjamin of Piccadilly has got it in his shop-window, and I've set my heart on it.

PAULA.

You consider it quite necessary?

LADY ORREYED.

Yes, because what I say to Dodo is this--a lady of my station must smother herself with hair ornaments. It's different with you, love--people don't look for so much blaze from you, but I've got rank to keep up; haven't I?

PAULA.

Yes.

LADY ORREYED.

Well, that was the cause of the little set-to between I and Dodo this morning. He broke two chairs, he was in such a rage. I forgot, they're your chairs; do you mind?

PAULA.