[_Horrified._] By George, is it? [_To himself, looking towards window._] Poor devil! [_To BLOND._] There isn't any method of getting off that balcony, is there? BLOND. No--unless by getting on to it. LUKYN. What do you mean? BLOND. It is not at all safe. Don't use it. [_LUKYN stands horror-stricken; BLOND goes out. Heavy rain is heard._ LUKYN. [_After some nervous glances at the window, wiping perspiration from his forehead._] I am honoured, Mrs. Posket, by this visit--though for a moment--I can't imagine---- AGATHA POSKET. Colonel Lukyn, we drove to Cork Street to your lodgings, and there your servant told us you were supping at the Hotel des Princes, with a friend. No one will be shown into this room while we are here? LUKYN. No--we--ah--shall not be disturbed. [_To himself._] Good heavens, suppose I never see him alive again! AGATHA POSKET. [_Sighing wearily._] Ah! LUKYN. I'm afraid you've come to tell me Posket is ill. AGATHA POSKET. I--no--my husband is at home. [_A sharp gust of wind is heard with the rain._ LUKYN. Lord forgive me! I've killed him. AGATHA POSKET. [_With horror._] Colonel Lukyn! LUKYN. Madam! AGATHA POSKET. Indeed Mr. Posket is at home. LUKYN. [_Glancing at the window._] Is he? I wish we all were. AGATHA POSKET. [_To herself._] Sunstroke evidently. Poor fellow! [_To LUKYN._] I assure you my husband is at home, quite well, and by this time sleeping soundly. [_CIS and MR. POSKET are heard laughing in the next room._ ISIDORE. [_Within._] You are two funny gentlemen, I beg your pardon. AGATHA POSKET. [_Startled._] What is that? LUKYN. In the next room. [_Raps at the door._] Hush--hush, hush! CHARLOTTE. Get it over, Aggy, and let us go home. I am so awfully hungry. LUKYN. [_Peering through the curtains._] It is still bearing him. What's his weight? Surely he can't scale over ten stone. Lord, how wet he is! AGATHA POSKET. Colonel Lukyn! LUKYN. [_Leaving the window sharply._] Madam, command me! AGATHA POSKET. Colonel Lukyn, we knew each other at Baroda twenty years ago. LUKYN. When I look at you, impossible. AGATHA POSKET. Ah, then you mustn't look at me. LUKYN. Equally impossible. CHARLOTTE. [_To herself._] Oh, I feel quite out of this. AGATHA POSKET. You were at my little boy's christening. LUKYN. [_Absently._] Yes--yes--certainly. AGATHA POSKET. You remember what a fine little fellow he was. LUKYN. [_Thoughtfully._] Not a pound over ten stone. AGATHA POSKET. Colonel Lukyn! LUKYN. I beg your pardon, yes--I was at the christening of your boy. AGATHA POSKET. [_To herself._] One of the worst cases of sunstroke I have ever known. LUKYN. I remember the child very well. Has he still got that absurd mug? AGATHA POSKET. Colonel Lukyn! LUKYN. Madam! AGATHA POSKET. My child is, and always was--perfect. LUKYN. You misunderstand me! I was his godfather; I gave him a silver cup. AGATHA POSKET.