This is her.

[_A middle-aged lady enters from the private room, followed by_ SOPHY
FULLGARNEY. _The customer pays at the desk while_ SOPHY _rattles on._
SOPHY _is a pretty, elegant, innocently vulgar, fascinating young woman
of six-and-twenty._

SOPHY.

[_With the air of the proprietress of a prosperous establishment._] Oh,
yes, it did slip my memory to come on Thursday, didn't it? The truth is
I had a most racking head, a thing I never have--well, I oughtn't to say
never have, ought I? [_To_ MISS LIMBIRD.] Now, Miss Limbird, see that
two pots of Crème de Mimosa are posted to Mrs. Arment, Carlos Place; and
book me, please--_me_--you thoroughly understand?--to attend upon Miss
Arment to-morrow evening at seven. [_Accompanying the customer, who now
withdraws._] To-morrow evening at seven--without fail. [_Raising her
voice._] The door, Miss Claridge. Good morning, madam. Good afternoon.

[_The door-gong sounds._

SOPHY.

Come, girls, you can get to your lunches.

[MISS LIMBIRD _leaves her desk and goes out._

MISS MOON.

Here's Mr. Valma, Miss Fullgarney.