Oh lord, I wish I were eighteen. [_She sinks into a chair, and an expression of utter weariness comes over her face._ GERALD. I say, what's up? LADY FREDERICK. [_Starting._] I thought you'd gone. Nothing. GERALD. Come, out with it. LADY FREDERICK. Oh, my poor boy, if you only knew. I'm so worried that I don't know what on earth to do. GERALD. Money? LADY FREDERICK. Last year I made a solemn determination to be economical. And it's ruined me. GERALD. My dear, how could it? LADY FREDERICK. I can't make it out. It seems very unfair. The more I tried not to be extravagant, the more I spent. GERALD. Can't you borrow? LADY FREDERICK. [_Laughing._] I have borrowed. That's just it. GERALD. Well, borrow again. LADY FREDERICK. I've tried to. But no one's such a fool as to lend me a penny. GERALD. Did you say I'd sign anything they liked? LADY FREDERICK. I was so desperate I said we'd both sign anything. It was Dick Cohen. GERALD. Oh lord, what did he say? LADY FREDERICK. [_Imitating a Jewish accent._] What's the good of wathting a nithe clean sheet of paper, my dear lady? GERALD. [_Shouting with laughter._] By George, don't I know it. LADY FREDERICK. For heaven's sake don't let's talk of my affairs. They're in such a state that if I think of them at all I shall have a violent fit of hysterics. GERALD. But look here, what d'you really mean? LADY FREDERICK. Well, if you want it--I owe my dressmaker seven hundred pounds, and last year I signed two horrid bills, one for fifteen hundred and the other for two thousand. They fall due the day after to-morrow, and if I can't raise the money I shall have to go through the Bankruptcy Court. GERALD. By George, that's serious. LADY FREDERICK. It's so serious that I can't help thinking something will happen. Whenever I've got in a really tight fix something has turned up and put me on my legs again. Last time, Aunt Elizabeth had an apoplectic fit. But of course it wasn't really very profitable because mourning is so desperately expensive. GERALD. Why don't you marry? LADY FREDERICK. Oh, my dear Gerald, you know I'm always unlucky at games of chance. GERALD. Charlie Mereston's awfully gone on you. LADY FREDERICK. That must be obvious to the meanest intelligence. GERALD. Well, why don't you have him? LADY FREDERICK. Good heavens, I'm old enough to be his mother. GERALD. Nonsense. You're only ten years older than he is, and nowadays no nice young man marries a woman younger than himself. LADY FREDERICK. He's such a good fellow. I couldn't do him a nasty turn like that. GERALD. How about Montgomerie? He simply stinks of money, and he's not a bad sort. LADY FREDERICK. [_Surprised._] My dear boy, I hardly know him. GERALD. Well, I'm afraid it means marriage or bankruptcy. LADY FREDERICK. Here's Charlie. Take him away, there's a dear. I want to talk to Paradine. _Enter_ PARADINE FOULDES _with_ MERESTON. FOULDES.