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at the Hotel Splendide, Monte Carlo. Act III—Lady Frederick's Dressing-Room.

      The Performing Rights of this play are fully protected, and permission to perform it, whether by Amateurs or Professionals, must be obtained in advance from the author's Sole Agent, R. Golding Bright, 20 Green Street, Leicester Square, London, W.C., from whom all particulars can be obtained.

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      Scene: Drawing-room of the Hotel Splendide at Monte Carlo. A large, handsomely furnished room, with doors right and left, and French windows at the back leading to a terrace. Through these is seen the starry southern night. On one side is a piano, on the other a table with papers neatly laid out on it. There is a lighted stove.

      Lady Mereston, in evening dress, rather magnificently attired, is reading the papers. She is a handsome woman of forty. She puts down the paper impatiently and rings the bell. A servant answers. He has a French accent.

      Lady Mereston.

      Did Mr. Paradine Fouldes come this evening?

      Servant.

      Yes, miladi.

      Lady Mereston.

      Is he in the hotel now?

      Servant.

      Yes, miladi.

      Lady Mereston.

      Will you send some one up to his room to say I'm waiting to see him?

      Servant.

      Pardon, miladi, but the gentleman say 'e was on no account to be disturbed.

      Lady Mereston.

      Nonsense. Mr. Fouldes is my brother. You must go to him immediately.

      Servant.

      Mr. Fouldes his valet is in the 'all. Will your ladyship speak with him?

      Lady Mereston.

      Mr. Fouldes is more difficult to see than a cabinet minister. Send his servant to me.

      Servant.

      Very good, miladi.

      [Exit Servant, and presently Thompson, Mr. Fouldes' man, comes in.

      Thompson.

      Your ladyship wished to see me.

      Lady Mereston.

      Good evening, Thompson. I hope you had a comfortable journey.

      Thompson.

      Yes, my lady. Mr. Fouldes always has a comfortable journey.

      Lady Mereston.

      Was the sea calm when you crossed?

      Thompson.

      Yes, my lady. Mr. Fouldes would look upon it as a great liberty if the sea was not calm.

      Lady Mereston.

      Will you tell Mr. Fouldes that I should like to see him at once?

      Thompson.

      [Looking at his watch.] Excuse me, my lady, but Mr. Fouldes said no one was to disturb him till ten o'clock. It's more than my place is worth to go to him at five minutes to.

      Lady Mereston.

      But what on earth's he doing?

      Thompson.

      I don't know at all, my lady.

      Lady Mereston.

      How long have you been with Mr. Fouldes?

      Thompson.

      Twenty-five years, my lady.

      Lady Mereston.

      I should have thought you knew how he spent every minute of his day.

      [Paradine comes in. He is a very well-dressed man of forty-odd. Self-possessed, worldly, urbane. He is never at a loss or put out of countenance. He overhears Lady Mereston's last words.

      Fouldes.

      When I engaged Thompson I told him the first thing he must learn was the very difficult feat of keeping his eyes open and shut at one and the same time.

      Lady Mereston.

      My dear Paradine, I've been waiting to see you for the last two hours. How tiresome you are.

      Fouldes.

      You may give me a kiss, Maud, but don't be rough.

      Lady Mereston.

      [Kissing his cheek.] You ridiculous creature. You really might have come to see me at once.

      Fouldes.

      My dear, you cannot grudge me a little repose after a long and tedious journey. I had to repair the ravages to my person caused by twenty-seven hours in the train.

      Lady Mereston.

      Don't be so absurd. I'm sure your person is never ravished.

      Fouldes.

      Ravaged, my dear, ravaged. I should look upon it as an affectation at my age if I were not a little upset by the journey from London to Monte Carlo.

      Lady Mereston.

      I'll be bound you ate a very hearty dinner.

      Fouldes.

      Thompson, did I eat any dinner at all?

      Thompson.

      [Stolidly.] Soup, sir.

      Fouldes.

      I remember looking at it.

      Thompson.

      Fish, sir.

      Fouldes.

      I trifled with a fried sole.

      Thompson.

      Bouchées à la Reine, sir.

      Fouldes.

      They have left absolutely no impression upon me.

      Thompson.

      Tournedos à la Splendide.

      Fouldes.

      They were distinctly tough, Thompson. You must lodge a complaint in the proper quarter.

      Thompson.

      Roast pheasant, sir.

      Fouldes.

      Yes, yes, now you mention it, I do remember the pheasant.

      Thompson.

      Chocolate ice, sir.

      Fouldes.

      It was too cold, Thompson. It was distinctly too cold.

      Lady Mereston.

      My dear Paradine, I think you dined uncommonly well.

      Fouldes.

      I have reached an age when love, ambition and wealth pale into insignificance beside a really well-grilled steak. That'll do, Thompson.

      Thompson.

      Very well, sir.

      [He

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