Noding is what it was, my dear Dolly, and nobody. MRS. STIDULPH. [_Fanning herself._] I suppose he can't find the artists; _that's_ it. If you don't have the artists--! [_Shutting up her fan._] You recollect my "Polly Taggart" in _The Merry Milliner_? VON RETTENMAYER. [_Stifling a yawn._] Gharming; gharming. [_FARNCOMBE is bending over LILY while she is eating her ice and they are talking lightly but intently. GABRIELLE, finding that she is "out of it," rises with a pout and, carrying her plate, joins the ladies and men who are at the fireplace. BLAND enters with JIMMIE at the door on the left._ MRS. STIDULPH. [_To VON RETTENMAYER._] I hate blowing my own trumpet, but I was looking through my press-cuttings only yesterday. _I've_ never seen such notices as I had for "Polly Taggart." VON RETTENMAYER. [_Closing his eyes._] Vavourable? MRS. STIDULPH. Favourable! They make me blush to read them. Stupid of me; but they make me blush, positively. [_JIMMIE comes to LILY, BLAND following her. On her way she sees the handkerchief and powder-puff lying upon the floor._ JIMMIE. Why, _there_ it is! [_Picking up the handkerchief and puff, and rubbing the puff, which is an extremely ragged one, over her nose-- singing sentimentally._] "There are no friends like the old friends, The constant, tried, and true;--" [_Sitting beside LILY._] Room for a little 'un? [_LILY, without interrupting her talk with FARNCOMBE, lays her hand on JIMMIE'S for a moment._ BLAND. [_To JIMMIE._] Bring you anything? JIMMIE. [_Wrapping the puff in the handkerchief tenderly and slipping it into her bosom._] A liqueur of petrol and a lucifer-match. BLAND. [_Leaving her._] Oh, go on! MRS. STIDULPH. [_To VON RETTENMAYER._] And then to give it all up, as I was idiot enough to do when I married, and for a life as dull as ditch-water! If ever a woman sacrificed herself in this world----! [_FULKERSON and DAPHNE enter at the door on the left and hurry to the counter._ FULKERSON. [_Boisterously._] Time! Time! [_To those standing at the counter._] 'Low me. 'Low me. [_To LUIGI._] Glass o' lemonade and a whiskey-and-soda. Quick with the whiskey-and-soda. MRS. STIDULPH. [_To VON RETTENMAYER._] But I don't intend to stick to _that_ arrangement. If I can't get back into the theatres, there are the halls! I was telling the Colonel this morning---- ROPER. [_Appearing before MRS. STIDULPH, his programme in his hand._] Ours, Dolly. VON RETTENMAYER. [_Rising with alacrity._] Aha! [_Bowing to MRS. STIDULPH._] I yield with relugtance. [_ROPER sits beside MRS. STIDULPH and VON RETTENMAYER hastens to ENID._ ROPER. [_To MRS. STIDULPH._] Another waltz. DAPHNE. [_To HENEAGE, who is claiming her._] Wait till I've finished my drink, Stewie. BLAND. [_To NITA._] Nita. NITA. No; this is with Douglas. BLAND. Nothing o' the sort. NITA. [_Referring to her programme._] You're correct; my mistake. DE CASTRO.