The Duchess goes on Friday.

SOPHY.

That was it, of course! And then she mumbled something I couldn't catch;
and then--listen to this!--then she said "to-night," quite plainly.
_To-night!_ and in such a tone of voice! And then he bowed, and out she
came with "to-night" again--"to-night," for the second time--and away
she went. Now, what do you think that "to-night" of hers means?

MURIEL.

[_Coldly, seating herself upon the bench._] Nothing--anything.

SOPHY.

Nothing!

MURIEL.

A hundred topics of conversation would lead to such an expression.
[_Looking at_ SOPHY _steadily._] You are mistaken in the construction
you put upon it.

SOPHY.

[_Quietly._] Mistaken, am I?

MURIEL.