_Adorer (beaming)._ Where would you like to sit, PUSSY? _Pussy (a fine young woman--but past the kitten stage)._ Oh, it's all the same to _me_! _Adorer (catching an aggrieved note in her tone)._ Why, you don't really think I'd have kept you waiting if I could help it? There's always extra work on Foreign Post nights! (PUSSY _turns away and arranges hat before mirror_). Waiter! (_A Waiter who has been reading the "Globe" in the corner, presents himself with_ Menu.) What shall we have to begin with, eh, PUSSY? [_The_ Waiter, _conceiving himself appealed to, disclaims the responsibility with a shrug, and privately reflects that these stiff Englishmen can be strangely familiar at times._ _Pussy._ Oh, I don't feel as if I cared much about anything--_now._ _Adorer._ Well, I've ordered Vermicelli Soup, and _Sole au gratin_. Now, you must try and think what you'd like to follow. (_Tentatively._) A Cutlet? _Pussy (with infinite contempt for such want of originality)._ A Cutlet--the _idea_! _Adorer (abashed)._ I thought perhaps--but look down the list. (PUSSY _glances down it with eyes which she tries to render uninterested._) "_Vol au vent à l' Herbaliste_,"--that looks as if it would be rather good. Shall we try that? _Pussy._ You may if you like--I shan't touch it myself. _Adorer._ Well, look here, then, "_Rognons sautés Venézienne_,"--Kidneys, you know--you _like_ kidneys. _Pussy (icily)._ Do I? I was not aware of it. _Adorer._ Come--it's for you to say. (_Reads from list._) "_Châteaubriand Bordelaise_," "Jugged Hare and Jelly," "Salmi of Partridge." (PUSSY, _who is still suffering from offended dignity, repudiates all these suggestions with scorn and contumely._) Don't like any of them? Well, (_helplessly_) can't you think of anything you _would_ like? _Pussy._ Nothing--except--(_with decision_)--a Cutlet. _Adorer (relieved by this condescension)._ The very thing! (_Tenderly._) We will _both_ have Cutlets. _Waiter (who has been waiting in dignified submission)._ Two Porzion Cutlet, verri well--enni Pottidoes? _Pussy (sharply)._ Potted what? _Adorer (to Waiter)._ Yes. (_To_ PUSSY, _aside, in same breath._) Potatoes, darling. (_The_ Waiter _suspects he is being trifled with._) Do you prefer them _sautés_, fried, or in chips,--or what? _Pussy (with the lofty indifference of an ethereal nature)._ I'm sure I don't care how they're done! _Adorer._ Then--Potato-chips, Waiter. _Pussy_ (_as_ Waiter _departs_). Not for me--I'll have mine _sautés_! _Adorer (when they are alone, leaning across table)._ I've been looking forward to this all day! _Pussy (unsympathetically)._ Didn't you have any lunch then? _Adorer._ I don't mean to the dinner--but to having you to talk with, quite alone by our two selves. _Pussy (who has her dignity to consider)._ Oh, I daresay. I wish you'd do something for me, JOSHUA. _Adorer (fervently)._ Only tell me what it is, darling!