[_Taking up the bottle of champagne._] And an excellent banquet you had
chanced to provide for the occasion. [_Reading the label._] "Félix
Poubelle, Carte d'Or." It will appear, I am afraid, that you had been
preparing for the entertainment of some amorous footman.

SOPHY.

[_Snapping her fingers at him._] Puh! bah! Oh, the whole house shall
know that that is your Duchess's champagne.

QUEX.

Excuse me--Mr. Brewster, the butler, will disprove that tale. You
wheedled this out of him on your own account, remember.

SOPHY.

[_Disconcerted._] Oh--ah, yes--but--

QUEX.

For yourself, my dear Sophy.

SOPHY.

[_Falteringly._] Yes, but--but she made me do it.

QUEX.