nt and uneasiness about the girl.
She comes to the nearer settee in the centre and again picks up her
bouquet. FARNCOMBE follows her. They talk in subdued voices and with
frequent pauses._

FARNCOMBE.

Another ice?

LILY.

[_Rearranging a rose, almost inaudibly._] No, thanks.

FARNCOMBE.

[_After a pause._] I-- I wish I had given you a bouquet instead of a
big, ugly basket.

LILY.

Why?

FARNCOMBE.

You-- you might have brought it to the theatre, as you have that one,
and carried it about with you.

LILY.

[_Coldly._] I didn't bring this to the theatre.

FARNCOMBE.

No?

LILY.

I found it with a lot of other flowers at the stage-door. It's from
the gallery boys-- [_looking at him for a moment steadily_]-- and I
attach some value to it.

[_The bearded waiter enters at the right-hand door at the back, takes
a box of cigars from the counter, and goes out at the door on the
left. LILY walks away from FARNCOMBE and seats herself upon the
further settee in the centre._

FARNCOMBE.

[_After the waiter has withdrawn, producing his programme._] Number
Nine. "_Two Step. Mind the Paint._" [_To LILY._] Of course, you-- you
are engaged for this?

LILY.

And you, surely?

FARNCOMBE.

No, I-- I kept it open, in case-- in case----

LILY.

[_Decidedly._] I dance it with Morrie.

FARNCOMBE.

Mr. Cooling?

LILY.

Morrie Cooling.

FARNCOMBE.

[_After another pause, sitting, behind her, upon the nearer settee._]
Miss Parradell.

LILY.

Well?

FARNCOMBE.

I wonder whether Mr. Cooling would let you off.

LILY.

I shouldn't dream of asking him.

FARNCOMBE.

No, but-- may _I_?

LILY.

[_Haughtily._] I beg you'll do nothing of the sort.

FARNCOMBE.

Forgive me.

[_There is a further pause and then she turns to him._

LILY.

Why I spoke so-- so sharply to you-- was----

FARNCOMBE.

You didn't speak sharply to me.

LILY.

Was because I've been very nasty with Morrie-- wrote him a furious
letter-- and I want to make it up to him.

FARNCOMBE.

Ah, yes.

LILY.

I called him a pig, and other things; I hate myself for it.

FARNCOMBE.

A pig?

LILY.

[_Smiling._] Still, that's no reason why I should be nasty with _you_.

FARNCOMBE.

[_Laughingly._] And call _me_ a pig.

LILY.

[_Impulsively, kneeling upon the settee so that she may compare her
programme with his._] Look here! Fifteen-- the last but one. Are you
fixed up for Fifteen?