Quite natural--quite. [_Turning to_ FRAYNE.] Chick, what an ass I've been; what fools we old chaps are, all of us! Why, if I had led the life of a saint, it would only be necessary for a man like this Bastling to come along, to knock me out. Good lord, how clear it is, when it's brought home to you in this fashion! It isn't the scamp, the roué, a girl shies at; it's the _old_ scamp, the _old_ roué. She'll take the young one, the blackguard with a smooth skin and a bright eye, directly he raises a hand--take him without a murmur, money-hunter though he may be. Take him! by Jove, she leaps into his arms! FRAYNE. D'ye mean that Bastling--? QUEX. Napier Bastling! [_Breaking into a prolonged peal of laughter._] Ha, ha, ha, ha! Chick, he's just what _I_ was at eight-and-twenty. Ha, ha, ha! what I was--and worse, damn him!--and she loves him. SOPHY. [_Who has been listening with wide-open eyes and parted lips._] It's not true! it isn't true! QUEX. [_Turning to her._] Isn't it! You think so, hey? No, I suppose you haven't experimentalised upon _him_; you haven't spied on him, and tempted him as you tempted me. You have never got _him_ into a quiet corner and stuck your impudent face in his. If you had-- SOPHY. Oh! he wouldn't--! [FRAYNE _has walked away;_ QUEX _now joins him._ QUEX. [_As he goes._] Wouldn't he! ha, ha, ha! [_To_ FRAYNE, _fiercely._] What the devil am I to do, Chick? FRAYNE. Punch his head. SOPHY. [_Panting._] Oh! oh! [BASTLING, _indistinctly seen through the muslin blinds, appears at the window. He raps gently upon the window frame._ SOPHY _glances at the window._] Eh--? [_Under her breath._] Oh! [_She goes swiftly to_ QUEX _and_ FRAYNE, _seizes them by the arms, and pushes them towards the door in the partition, saying agitatedly._] Wait there! don't come out, or make a noise-- QUEX. What are you up to now? SOPHY. Stay here till I find out what's happened. Oh, I'll do what I can for you! [_They enter the private room and she closes the door. Then she returns to the window, unfastens it, and retreats._ BASTLING _pushes open the window and comes in._ BASTLING. [_Advancing to her excitedly._] Ah, Sophy! [_Looking round._] Any one about? SOPHY. [_Pointing to the left._] All my girls are in there. Where is she? BASTLING. Next door. She's sitting down, calming herself--having her cry out. SOPHY. Crying! BASTLING. She's all right--awfully happy. I told her I'd come and tell you. SOPHY. Tell me--! BASTLING. It's settled. SOPHY. Settled! BASTLING. She's mine, Sophy. SOPHY. [_With a gasp._] Yours! BASTLING. We're going to be married at once--next week. We shall need your help still. Of course, it must be a secret marriage. She will follow me out by-and-by. SOPHY. [_Nodding, dully._] Oh, yes. BASTLING. Why, aren't you glad about it? [_Smilingly._] Don't you congratulate us? SOPHY. C--certainly. BASTLING. Good. And--[_shaking hands with her_] thanks to _you_. [_Releasing her hand._] Thanks.