LADY TWOMBLEY. Good gracious! VALENTINE WHITE. Something has happened, I'm afraid. [VALENTINE goes out.] LADY TWOMBLEY. [To LEBANON.] You're ill! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. I'm upset. LADY TWOMBLEY. Too much breakfast! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. No. I--I've peppered Macphail. LADY TWOMBLEY. Peppered him! Can't you take your mind off eating? MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. You don't understand. I was in the wagonette, tellin' 'em the story of Tom Bolter and those beastly ducks. I got 'old of a beastly gun and just as I was demonstrating how I shot the fifteen beastly birds---- LADY TWOMBLEY. It went off! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. Well! Don't make such a fuss about it! LADY TWOMBLEY. Ah! and it was pointed at Sir Colin! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. Pointed at him! No! His legs were stuck right in the way. LADY TWOMBLEY. Heavens! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. Be quiet! Make light of it--make light of it, like I do! LADY TWOMBLEY. Now, now I hope you're content! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. No, I'm not. I wouldn't have had this 'appen for 'alf a sovereign. This 'Ighland 'oliday of mine is gettin' on my nerves. LADY TWOMBLEY. Your nerves! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. Yes, Lady T. Imagine what it must mean to a shy man to spend a rollickin' August with a lot of people whose chief occupation is staring at the tips of their own aquiline noses. LADY TWOMBLEY. [Hysterically.] Ha, ha, ha! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. Imagine what it must be to a shy man to find himself always leading the conversation, instead of following it with a sparkling comment or two, as I'm in the 'abit of doin' in my own circle. Think of me starting every topic and arguing on it till my throat's sore; making every joke and roaring at it till I get blood to the head. Sometimes when I'm in the middle of a long story and not a soul listening I feel so lonely I--I could almost cry. LADY TWOMBLEY. Then out of your own sufferings why can't you find some compassion for mine? MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. It's pathetic--that's what my position is--it's dooced pathetic. LADY TWOMBLEY. In mercy's name why don't you retire quietly to your room and pack? MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. What! Throw up the sponge? LADY TWOMBLEY. You needn't throw up your sponge--_pack_ your sponge. MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. I understand, Lady T--hook it! LADY TWOMBLEY. "Hook it" is a harsh way of putting it. Bring your visit to a close. Think of what you are losing here! Think of Margate, where I feel you must have many dear friends! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. I--I've half a mind to. LADY TWOMBLEY. Ha! Bless you, Mr. Lebanon, bless you! I'll fetch you a Bradshaw. MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. Stop! I forgot the hop. LADY TWOMBLEY. The hop? MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. There's a ball here to-morrow night. LADY TWOMBLEY. For heaven's sake, don't wait for the hop. MR. JOSEPH LEBANON. I had half-a-dozen lessons in the Scotch Reel before I left town. LADY TWOMBLEY. And you would risk the Reel on half-a-dozen lessons! Madman! MR. JOSEPH LEBANON.