ettee, and is about to put
her arm through FARNCOMBE'S when she checks herself and looks at her
programme._

LILY.

[_Frowning._] Tsss!

FARNCOMBE.

Eh?

LILY.

[_In a low voice._] One, two, three, four--! Why, this-- this is our
fifth dance!

FARNCOMBE.

[_Softly._] Yes.

LILY.

Five out of eight!

FARNCOMBE.

[_Looking at his programme._] And 10, 12, and 14 are mine, too.

LILY.

[_With a movement of her shoulders, accepting his arm._] How unfair!

FARNCOMBE.

[_As they go to the right-hand door at the back._] Unfair?

LILY.

To the others. I can't think what made me so thoughtless.

[_They disappear. Two of the waiters carry out the soiled glasses,
etc.; another follows with the ices, and the bearded waiter with the
strawberries-and-cream. After a while, LUIGI also withdraws._

ENID.

[_Leaving the counter with VON RETTENMAYER._] Well, what did you say
to him?

VON RETTENMAYER.

I told him the biece wants lifding in the zecond aggd and that he
ought to gif you anoder dance.

ENID.

[_On the right._] What did _he_ say?

VON RETTENMAYER.

He will think it over!

ENID.

[_Scornfully._] Ha! That's Smythe's invariable formula, cunning old
fox!

VON RETTENMAYER.

But we are to dalk aboud it lader. I am waiding to ged him alone.

ENID.

Pff! _You_ won't get him alone, you stupid; _he'll_ take precious good
care of that. [_Finding that LUIGI and the waiters have departed, and
walking across to the left._] Ah, but it isn't dancing my mind's
dwelling on just now, dear boy.

VON RETTENMAYER.

[_Following her._] Nod?

ENID.

It's rest I'm yearning for-- my holiday!-- rest for my weary bones.
[_Turning to him without a sign of disturbance._] Karl, I'm simply
bursting with rage.

VON RETTENMAYER.

Rage?

ENID.

That wretched hotel at Ostend-- the Plage! They've the confounded
impudence to ask me a hundred-and-twenty-five francs a day for two
cubby-holes on the third floor, for my aunt and me.

VON RETTENMAYER.

Monsdrous. [_With a shrug._] But Ostend is-- Ostend.

ENID.

Thanks for the information. Is that all the sympathy you can offer?

VON RETTENMAYER.

Bardon. [_Humbly._] There may be gheaper hodels.

ENID.

Where the common people pay for their beds and meals with Cook's
coupons! [_Sitting upon the arm of the further settee in the centre
and swinging her feet._] Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose it'll have
to be Swanage, or some brisk reso