_Miss T._ Well, to think now! I guess you're about the most unselfish Saint on two legs! Now some folks would have felt jealous. _Culch._ Possibly--but I cannot accuse myself of such a failing as that. _Miss T._ I'd just like to hear you accuse yourself of _any_ failing! I don't see however you manage to act so magnanimous and live. I told you I wanted to study your character, and I believe it isn't going to take me vurry much longer to make up my mind about _you_. You _don't_ suppose I'll have any time for Mr. PRENDERGAST after getting such a glimpse into your nature? There, help me into the gondola, and don't talk any more about it. Tell him to go to Salviati's right away. _Culch._ (_dejectedly, to himself_). I've bungled it! I might have _known_ I should only make matters worse! _On the Piazzetta; it is moonlight, the Campanile and dome of San Giorgio Maggiore are silhouetted sharp and black against the steel-blue sky across a sea of silver ripples. PODBURY and CULCHARD are pacing slowly arm-in-arm between the two columns._ _Culch._ And so you went on to S. Giovanni in Bragora, eh? then over the Arsenal, and rowed across the lagoons to see the Armenian convent? A delightful day, my dear PODBURY! I hope you--er--appreciate the inestimable privileges of--of seeing Venice so thoroughly? _Podb._ Oh, of course it's very jolly. Find I get a trifle mixed afterwards, though. And, between ourselves, I wouldn't mind--now and then, you know--just dawdling about among the shops and people, as you and the TROTTERS do! _Culch._ That has its charms, no doubt. But don't you find Miss PRENDERGAST a mine of information on Italian Art and History? _Podb._ Don't I just--rather too _deep_ for me, y' know! I say, isn't Miss TROTTER immense sport in the shops and that! _Culch._ She is--er--vivacious, certainly. (_PODBURY sighs_.) You seem rather dull to-night, my dear fellow? _Podb._ Not dull--a trifle out of sorts, that's all. Fact is, I don't think Venice agrees with me. All this messing about down beastly back-courts and canals and in stuffy churches--it _can't_ be healthy, you know! And they've _no_ drainage. I only hope I haven't caught something, as it is. I've that kind of sinking feeling, and a general lowness--_She_ says I lunch too heavily--but I swear it's more than that! _Culch._ Nonsense, you're well enough. And why you should feel low, with all your advantages--in Venice as you are, and in constant intercourse with a mind adorned with every feminine gift! _Podb._ Hul-lo! why, I thought you called her a pedantic prig? _Culch._ If I used such a term at all, it was in no disparaging sense. Every earnest nature presents an--er--priggish side at times. I know that even I myself have occasionally, and by people who didn't _know_ me, of course, been charged with priggishness. _Podb._ Have you, though? But of course there's nothing of that about _her_. Only--well, it don't signify. [_He sighs._