[Illustration: "Exit unsteadily towards Bar."] _Hughie_ (_who is looking for his partner_). Not now, old man--can't stop. See you later! [_He makes his escape._ _The Affect. G._ (_confidentially--to a Policeman_). Thash a very dear ole pal o' mine, plishman, a _very_ dear ole pal. Worsht of him ish--shimply imposhble get a lit' rational conversation with him. No _sheriousness_ in his character! [_Exit unsteadily towards Bar, in blissful unconsciousness that somebody has attached a large false nose and spectacles to the buttons of his coat-tails._ _A Troubadour_ (_jealously--to an Arleguina_). No--but look here, you might just as well say right put which costume you like best--mine or--(_indicating a Cavalier on her other side_)--his. _Arleguina_ (_cautiously--not desiring to offend either_). Well, I'd rather be _him_--not as a _man_, I wouldn't--but, as _myself_, I'd like to be _this_ one. [_Both appear equally satisfied and soothed by this diplomatic, but slightly mystic response._ _A Vivandière_ (_to a Martyr, who is shuffling along inside a property-trunk, covered with twigs, and supposed to represent a Bird in the Hand_). Well, that's _one_ way of coming _out_ to enjoy yourself, I suppose! _A Middle-aged Man_ (_wandering behind the Orchestra_). It's beastly dull, that's what it is--none of the give-and-take humour and practical fun you get in Paris or Vienna!... That's a nice, simple-looking little thing in the seat over there. (_The simple-looking little thing peeps at him, with one eye over her fan, in arch invitation._) Gad, I'll go up and talk to her--it will be something to _do_, at any rate--she looks as if she wouldn't mind. (_He goes up._) Think I know your face--haven't we met before? _The Simple Little Thing_ (_after an elaborate wink aside at a_ Fireman). Shouldn't wonder. Don't you run away yet. Sit down and talk to me--do now. No, not _that_ side--try the arm-chair, it's more comfortable. _The M.M._ (_throwing himself gracefully into a well-padded chintz chair_). Well, really--(_The chair suddenly digs him in the ribs with one of its elbows_). Eh, look here now--'pon my--(_He attempts to rise, and finds himself tightly pinioned by the arms of the chair._) There's some confounded fool _inside_ this chair! _The Simple Little Thing_ (_tickling him under the chin with her fan_). Shouldn't call yourself names! I'm going--don't get up on _my_ account. [_She goes off, laughing; a crowd collects and heartily enjoys his situation._ _The M.M._ (_later--very red after his release_). If I could have found a policeman, I'd have given that chair in custody! It's scandalous to call _that_ coming in Fancy Dress! [_Exit indignantly._ * * * * * THE BROWN-JONES INCIDENT. (_ADAPTED FROM THE FRENCH._) SCENE--_A Street. Enter BROWN and JONES. They meet, and regard one another for a moment, fixedly. Then they salute one another respectfully._