CULCH. You find these old churches rather oppressive, I dare say. Er--will you have a cigarette? [_Tenders case._ BOB. Thanks; got a pipe. (_He lights it._) Where's Miss Trotter? CULCH. She will be here presently. By the way, my dear Prendergast, this--er--misunderstanding between your sister and her is very unfortunate. BOB. I know that well enough. It's none of _my_ doing! And _you_'ve no reason to complain, at all events! CULCH. Quite so. Only, you see, we _used_ to be good friends at Constance, and--er--until recently---- BOB. Used we? Of course, if you say so, it's all right. But what are you driving at exactly? CULCH. All I am driving at is this: Couldn't we two--er--agree to effect a reconciliation between the two ladies? So much pleasanter for--er--all parties! BOB. I dare say. But how are you going to set about it? _I_ can't begin. CULCH. Couldn't you induce your sister to lay aside her--er--prejudice against me? Then _I_ could easily---- BOB. Very likely--but I _couldn't_. I never interfere in my sister's affairs, and, to tell you the honest truth, I don't feel particularly inclined to make a beginning on your account. [_Strolls away._ CULCH. (_to himself_). What a surly boor it is! But I don't care--I'll do him a good turn, in spite of himself! (MISS T. _returns_.) Do you know, I've just been having a chat with poor young Prendergast. He seems quite cut up at being forced to side with his sister. I undertook to--er--intercede for him. Now is it quite fair, or like your--er--usual good-nature, to visit his sister's offences--whatever they are--on him? I--I only put it to you. MISS T. Well, to think now! I guess you're about the most unselfish saint on two legs! Now some folks would have felt jealous. CULCH. Possibly--but I cannot accuse myself of such a failing as that. MISS T. I'd just like to hear you accuse yourself of _any_ failing! I don't see however you manage to act so magnanimous and live. I told you I wanted to study your character, and I believe it isn't going to take me vurry much longer to make up my mind about _you_. You _don't_ suppose I'll have any time for Mr. Prendergast after getting such a glimpse into your nature? There, help me into the gondola, and don't talk any more about it. Tell him to go to Salviate's right away. CULCH. (_dejectedly to himself_). I've bungled it! I might have _known_ I should only make matters worse! _On the Piazzetta; it is moonlight, the Campanile and dome of San Giorgio Maggiore are silhouetted sharp and black against the steel-blue sky across a sea of silver ripples._ PODBURY _and_ CULCHARD _are pacing slowly arm-in-arm between the two columns_. CULCH. And so you went on to S. Giovanni in Bragora, eh? then over the Arsenal, and rowed across the lagoons to see the Armenian convent? A delightful day, my dear Podbury! I hope you--er--appreciate the inestimable privileges of--of seeing Venice so thoroughly?