Very. This bread is beautiful. [_CIS is heard singing the chorus of a comic song boisterously._ AGATHA POSKET. Don't you recognise that voice? CHARLOTTE. [_Munching._] The only voice I recognise is the voice of hunger. AGATHA POSKET. I am overwrought, I suppose. [_LUKYN, with his head drooping, fetches the dish of oysters from the sideboard._ VALE. [_Behind the curtains._] He has taken the oysters. I've seen him do it. LUKYN. The oysters. [_LUKYN sinks into his chair at the table and leans his head upon his hand; the two women look at each other._ CHARLOTTE. [_To AGATHA POSKET._] Anything wrong? AGATHA POSKET. Sunstroke--bad case! CHARLOTTE. Oh--poor fellow. [_She gently lifts the corner of the dish, sniffs, then replaces cover._] No plates. AGATHA POSKET. Ask for them. CHARLOTTE. You ask. AGATHA POSKET. You're hungry. CHARLOTTE. You're married. Comes better from you. VALE. [_Behind curtains._] This silence is terrible. AGATHA POSKET. [_To LUKYN._] Ahem! Ahem! LUKYN. [_Looking up suddenly._] Eh? AGATHA POSKET. There are no plates. LUKYN. No plates? No plates? It's my fault. Pardon me. Where are the plates? [_VALE, still invisible, stretches out his hand through the curtain, takes up the plates and presents them to LUKYN, who recoils._ VALE. [_In a whisper._] Here are the plates. Look sharp, Lukyn. LUKYN. Vale! safe and sound! [_He takes the plates, then grasps VALE'S extended hand._] Bless you, old fellow. I'm myself again. [_Going gaily to the table with the plates._] My dear ladies, I blush--I positively blush--I am the worst host in the world. VALE. [_To himself._] By Jove, that's true. AGATHA POSKET. Not at all--not at all. LUKYN. [_Helping the ladies._] I'll make amends, by George! You may have noticed I've been confoundedly out of sorts. That's my temperament-- now up, now down. I've just taken a turn, ha, ha! Oysters. [_Handing plate to AGATHA POSKET._ AGATHA POSKET. Thank you. LUKYN. Ah! I've passed many a happy hour in this room. The present is not the least happy. CHARLOTTE. [_Trying to attract his attention._] Ahem! Ahem! LUKYN. [_Gazing up at the ceiling._] My first visit to the Hotel des Princes was in the year--the year--let me think. CHARLOTTE. [_Whispering to AGATHA POSKET._] Isn't he going to help me? LUKYN. Was it in '55? AGATHA POSKET. [_Quickly passing her plate over to CHARLOTTE._] I'm not hungry. CHARLOTTE. You're a dear. LUKYN. [_Emphatically._] It _was_ in '55. I'm forgetful again--pardon me. [_He hands plate of oysters to CHARLOTTE, and is surprised to find her eating vigorously._] Why, I thought I---- [_To AGATHA POSKET._] My dear madam, a thousand apologies. [_He helps her and then himself._] Pah! they're cold--icy--you could skate on 'em. There's a dish of something else over there. [_He goes to the sideboard; VALE'S hand is again stretched forth with the other covered dish._ VALE. I say, Lukyn. LUKYN.